Student Teacher
by Jinubean
Summary: Harry is in his seventh year in Hogwarts, he has been put in charge of a task most adults would rather not have while foriegn students flood the hallways of the school! Surprises galore as couples form in times of danger! R
1. On the Hogwarts Express

_I—On the Hogwarts Express._

It was an unusually rotten summer day at Hogwarts. The beginning of the term greeted by a nasty cold streak complete with thunder and rain. Harry could not help but think that it was an omen for things yet to come.

He had not been as surprised as he thought he would have been when he saw that there were considerably less children on the Hogwarts Express than usual. No laughter, no happiness, and it were not that way just for Harry. He had a feeling that his seventh year was going to be the equivalent of a year in hell.

Harry knew the reason for the lack of people, the fear of Voldemort had touched everybody from the smallest witchlet to the Minister of Magic. After the dark lord infiltrated two of his death eaters into the staff at Hogwarts, Bartemus Crouch Jr. acting as Professor Mad Eye Moody and the well-known Professor Severus Snape, who succeeded in eliminating the Head Master, Professor Dumbledore, it was no wonder nobody wanted to go to school. Parents were turning to traditional home schooling methods this year as opposed to sending their children away for organized education. Only those who were brave, or psychotic, or forced went to school this year.

Harry was neither brave nor crazy, or so he claimed. He was going back to Hogwarts only because he was forced to. Professor McGonagall had to nearly tie him to his train seat and make him come back. His intention had been to visit the small town where his parents had perished at Voldemort's wand and then continue the work that Dumbledore had shown him, in order to defeat his arch nemesis. Like the true friends they are, Hermione and Ron sat right beside him.

Hermione had not found it incredibly difficult to convince her parents she was going back to school. After all, being muggle they were nearly oblivious to what went on in the world of magic. They knew strange things were happening in England, people dying for no apparent cause, bridges blowing up, but as far as the news told them, they were all political threats posed by Middle Eastern terrorists using chemical weapons such as anthrax to show their cause. Hermione knew better, and that what her parents knew, the conspiracy, was for the better. They told Hermione to be careful and to ring them, which meant send them an owl, if she went on any other train except the Hogwarts Express.

Ron, however, had found it nearly impossible to convince his parents to let him go back to school. Eventually, he used the 'of age' card with his father, who calmly explained to his mother that he was right, but she retorted with the "as long as you live under this roof—" but was interrupted by Ron exclaiming that as of that moment he no longer lived under that roof. Hermione thought that this was the bravest and the stupidest thing he had ever done.

Now the three best friends were off to Hogwarts, for training.

Lightning lit up the dark sky as thunder clapped, making the train vibrate. Rain lashed violently at the windows. Ron jumped.

"Oh, Ron, would you stop it?" Hermione said gently. "It's only a storm."

He glared furtively at her, his lip upturned, but found he had no retort.

"I can see that," she said from behind her book. Ron made faces at her.

He gave up his futile efforts at taunting Hermione and turned to Harry, "cheer up mate, it shouldn't be so bad."

Harry turned to him, his complexion grey. The dark circles under his eyes were only one indication that he had not slept in weeks, perhaps all summer. He had not uttered a word since mumbling hello while getting on the train.

"I wonder what this year is going to be like," Ron pondered loudly.

Hermione closed her book and let it rest on her lap, "Well, by the looks of it, it's going to be a quiet one. All studying, no Quiddich, and for some reason, a lot of new faces."

"I was wondering about that myself," Ron said, staring at a smiling Beauxbaton's student as she gracefully strutted down the thin corridor. "Exchange program?" he asked, nearly drooling.

Hermione scoffed, "Oh give it a rest."

"What are you reading Harry?" Ron asked. The other two could tell the train ride was nearly over as Ron was fidgety. "Haven't you read that enough?" He asked after reading the title.

"I may have missed something," Harry mumbled, burying his nose deeper into the Defense against the Dark Arts guide.

However, he was not really reading the book. Like Ron, he was wondering what this year was going to be like. He figured he would not be at school as much as the other kids would. He had other responsibilities, like defeating Voldemort. He pondered at what it would be like without Professor Dumbledore to help him. He felt utterly alone amidst a group of people willing to facilitate his cause.

"So, did you go to the ministry and get your disapparating certificate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah I did, as soon as I turned seventeen. My uncle and aunt were going to London anyway and I hitched a ride with them. They deliberately intended to leave me there anyway and were surprised when they walked in the door and found me there."

Ron laughed. "I wrote to you that I got mine as soon as the summer started."

"You wrote me and told me you failed it the first time!" Hermione exclaimed; she was proud of the fact that she was the first of the three to receive her test.

Ron made an ugly face at her saying, "Well I passed it after that one!"

The school loomed closer, Harry could see its dark spires rising above the town of Hogsmeade. He could not recall a time when the school looked more ominous, like nobody was home but spiders and ghouls. Even in his first year, he remembered having feelings of excited mystery. This year was different; he had a heavy burden to carry, with nobody to help him bear it.

Immediately after getting off the train, he found an empty carriage in the midst of the jumbled crowd. Most people seemed confused following the lead of somebody recognizably from Hogwarts. He noticed that there were no first or second years, in fact, nobody under fifth year seemed to be in attendance.

He asked Hermione about this fact and she shrugged, getting into the carriage behind him. "Everything is different this year. We're not even prefects anymore, that means there'll be no Head Boy or Girl."

"Do you mind if I ride with you?" a girl with a strange accent asked. Her short dark hair was soaked at sticking to her pale face; it looked like she had been searching for a carriage for longer than she should have to.

Harry was wary about allowing people he did not know into their carriage, after all, she could easily be a death eater, but decided it would be cruel to leave her outside to walk to Hogwarts.

She happily hopped into the carriage, using her wand to dry her hair and robes, a trick that Hermione had taught Harry and Ron. When she was satisfied, she brushed her bangs aside and asked, "So, I'm Gwen, what are your names?"

"Ron."

"Harry," he said from her left.

"My name is Hermione; it's a pleasure to meet you," she said extending her hand.

Gwen smiled sincerely, "You too. I assume you all go to Hogwarts regularly?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, where do you go?"

"Oh, I'm usually home schooled," Gwen admitted proudly. "My mom has taught me everything I know, but she thought it would be good for me to get at least one year of public schooling under my belt."

"Where do you come from?" Ron asked rudely. Hermione shot him a glance.

"Canada," she replied proudly.

**AN: my first HP fanfic, I'm used to writing Crossing Jordan and I've never read a Harry Potter fic, so I'm sorry if it seems a little dry or boring! Please review, it will tell me whether or not I should continue the story (I hope you like it because I've already written 7 chapters!)**


	2. School Changes

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* * *

II—School Changes_

Not only Gwen, but also the new Head Master Professor Minerva McGonagall, uncovered the mystery about all of the extra students attending Hogwarts this year.

"Settle down, students!" she exclaimed irritably after the start of term feast. "That's better. To all of the new Hogwarts students welcome and to all of the existing Hogwarts students, welcome back! We expect that you will show the new students respect and admiration, they come from all over the world to train here with you. As most of you know, other schools around the world closed down for the year due to recent events. However, our school, despite tragic occurrences, has decided to brave these events and remain open, in the hope that you will gain in knowledge and experience important in protecting yourselves and your families."

Harry was appalled. He turned to Hermione whispering vehemently, "Can you believe this? Any one of these new students could be working for Voldemort. They could be his spies!" he spat. "Dumbledore would have never—"

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Hermione reassured him, though she was doubtful.

Their words went unheard over the chatter that suddenly arose in the Great Hall among the other Hogwarts students with similar concerns and the foreign students concerned about said 'tragic occurrences'.

Professor McGonagall raised her voice, "Let me assure all of you that you are completely safe here in Hogwarts. New measures guarantee that we have the strictest security in place. Now, onto other matters, the majority of Hogwarts students are not attending this year because there has been enforced an age restriction on magical education, only for this year, however. You must be of the age of fifteen to attend Hogwarts. As well, many students believe that staying home is safer than coming to school; this is not the case, however, most of the Slytherin house thought so. We will house some new students there; the rest of you will be separated into the various other houses."

Harry looked to the Slytherin table. He indeed saw that most of the faces were unrecognizable. Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, decided it best not to show up for school this year, all the better for Harry, just one less problem he would have to worry about. Then again, he wondered if they would ever show their faces at Hogwarts because of the horrible deed Malfoy had performed, with his greasy friends as accomplices in his crime. Harry supposed there would be no reason for them to return. If Voldemort had not killed Malfoy, he was probably in some sort of Voldemort cult, learning how to be a death eater and one with the dark arts.

"Strict limitations have been applied to what you can and can not do at Hogwarts. For example, the grounds are protected, but you must not venture outside in the day alone or in the dark at all. Classes have been adjusted to fit a guideline for this year. Existing Hogwarts students will notice a change to their timetables; new students will notice that we have not included all of the classes you have requested. We have not the work force to run all courses previously available. With that said, these are dark times; it would be within your best interest to obey your professors, and stay within the rules. You may go to your houses now."

"She sat back down at the table, looking directly at Harry as he looked at her. It seemed that her words were intended for him mostly. She looked away eventually and he noticed just how aged she looked. She was much younger than Dumbledore, but, to Harry, seemed so much older.

"Harry, are you coming, or are you going to sit down here all night?" Ron asked. They had already stood and were halfway down the table before realizing that he had not joined them. Sulkily he stood and followed them to the Gryffindor tower.

"It's weird having all these new students around. None of them knows what they are doing. They should have kept us as prefects and then we could guide them."

"Well, aren't you the little helper," Hermione laughed, "but what would they do about Slytherin? Malfoy and Parkinson aren't here anymore so they don't have prefects."

Ron shrugged, "They're probably off snogging—"

"They're probably dead or working for Voldemort," Harry cut in. There was silence as nobody disputed the fact. Harry almost felt sorry for Malfoy after all, being born into such a family was his first misdeed.

They entered the common room, which was already packed. Lavender Brown was there, looking lonely by the fire. Hermione went to join her where she found that Parvati and her Ravenclaw twin, Padma, did not come back to Hogwarts this year. Harry and Ron went upstairs to settle and found that Neville was the only other Gryffindor boy from their year, Dean and Seamus were not there. In their place was a single person, a brown fellow with a Middle Eastern accent. He smiled and said hello their arrival.

"My name is Sivinter."

"I'm Ron, and this is Harry."

Sivinter nodded, his eyes on the lightning bolt scar, as if he already knew who Harry was.

Neville started talking about his summer holiday and his problems with his grandmother he said, "She almost made me stay home this year, but boy did I tell her!" He exclaimed proudly. "At least she's proud that I'm acting like my parents," but there was a note of sadness in his tone.

Ron laughed it up with Neville and the new person until the moon had run its short course. Harry only smiled, changed into his pajamas and went to bed dwelling on how difficult this year was really going to be.

Harry found it unsettling having all the new comers in his class. He supposed that they would resume classes as normal, and the other students would fill class space where there were no younger students. Instead, the students separated into their age-year categories, seventeen year olds with seventeen year olds and extended class time to fill space.

Harry looked at his schedule in the Great Hall the next morning after forcing himself to eat breakfast. "We've got two classes today," he mentioned, "Transfiguration and Charms. Tomorrow we have one all day, Defense Against the Dark Arts and spare. Thursday we have potions for half the day and then spare."

"They've taken away everything and given us spares!" Hermione whined.

"As if anybody could ever miss the classes that you took Hermione," Ron laughed, "I mean, come on, arithmancy?"

Hermione slumped back in her chair, "Why would they omit classes for free time though?"

"Maybe, there aren't enough students that want to take the course, so they dropped it to give us study or practice time. Or, maybe Professors are…" Because the outcome of fatality was such a possibility, Harry did not finish his sentence. Instead, he turned to Ron and asked, "Who's our head of house this year? I didn't see who gave us our schedules."

"It's me 'arry!" Hagrid's recognizable voice reverberated behind him. Harry turned and viewed the proud look of accomplishment on Hagrid's face. "Professor McGonagall made me, _me_ of all people, Gryffindor's head of house!"

Ron with his upturned nose, tried to hide his horror and asked, "You sure you're up to the responsibility Hagrid?"

"Well o' course I am, Ron, why d'you think she gave it ter me?"

"Because there are no other teachers," Ron mumbled incoherently. Hermione elbowed him hard while smiling and said, "Congratulations, Hagrid, we are _all_ very happy for you!"

"Thank you Hermione," he said but with a downcast look on his face, "It's jus' a pity that I won' have as much time for the creatures as I once did. They dropped me course."

"Why did they do that?" Ron exclaimed.

Hagrid seemed to miss his sarcasm and said, "Well for one, it was mostly younger students who wanted ter take it, and fer two," at this point he came in closer to the three and said in softer tones, "I think tha' Professor McGonagall is focusin' more on academic subjects this year. After all that's goin' on with You-Know-Who, who can blame her?"

They nodded in understanding and stood, "Well, we've got to get to our classes, Hagrid; we'll be seeing you a lot more this year!"

Hagrid looked confused at Ron's statement so Ron said, "Well, you'll be spending more time in the castle now that you're head of Gryffindor," but Harry knew what he really meant and cracked a smile after they left saying, "We don't get into that much trouble do we?"

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**AN: Like it? R&R!**


	3. Surprise Notes

_III—Surprise Notes_

Professor McGonagall decided she was going to wait for her class to settle down before she began. However, frustrated by the fact that she had Head Master duties on top of being a teacher, she decided to push right ahead.

"Alright, settle down. Introductions can be finished later, at your own convenience. For now, we are going to be focusing on human transfiguration. Later we will be going into transfiguration from air."

Harry looked around the room. Many of the students he did not recognize (as it mostly was in Hogwarts these days) but some he did. Neville for instance, pouting because Herbology had been dropped this year, Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff, and Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin. Harry wondered if there was anybody in the other years that had come back.

Next class was charms. Harry thought he saw some recognizable faces in the hallway and his heart gave a slight leap when he saw a flash of red hair dart around the corner but when they rounded it, it was gone.

"Say, Ginny didn't come this year did she?"

"Are you mental? I had to force my parents to let me go, you know that. She kicked and screamed and they made her stay home."

Harry nodded, relieved. Though his heart ached with misery since he left her, he felt that she was safer out of Hogwarts with her parents and brothers.

Hermione was getting along with the new students swimmingly. Harry preferred not to talk to them, and Ron was in the middle, but mostly standing with Hermione. That evening, in the library with a ton of homework, Hermione invited the young dark haired girl named Gwen who had shared their carriage, to their table. "Hi Harry, Hi Ron. This is quite the school you have here, isn't it? It's like a maze."

Ron vocally agreed with her where as Harry only nodded.

"How do you like it?" Hermione asked, "You mentioned before that you were home schooled, so you've never been to school before."

"Oh, that's not true. I went to Muggle School when I was little, to learn about the world, but we moved away when I was eleven to start my magical education. You see, in Canada, there are no restrictions on using magic outside of school because you have to _sign up_ for magic school, where as here, you get invited."

Harry remembered his invitation, and shortly after, when Hagrid had picked him up to collect his school things. That time seemed so much simpler than now.

She grinned at Harry, looking at his scar as he copied down text onto parchment. "Where did you get your scar?" she asked.

Harry looked up to her, unbelieving. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, shock faced. The quizzical expression on Gwen's face, told them everything. She did not know who Harry Potter was.

"How can you not know who he is?"

"It's the home schooling," Ron assumed.

They left the library, aware of the librarian's eyes on their moving lips. They preferred not to be chased with books as they left, so they left silently.

Saving Harry the ordeal, Hermione quickly told her the story of Harry Potter from his birth as "the boy who lived" to the end of the previous school year, leaving out the more precise details. As it turns out, she was absolutely clueless. Voldemort was half a world away and, living on an isolated farm at the time and away from other witches and wizards, her mother had never heard the story of the boy who lived.

Gwen thanked them for the story, because she had heard whispers from other students about him but did not know what they meant. She told them of how she grew up in a city, attending Muggle School until she was eleven, when her father left her mother after finding out that they possessed magical properties, "He was a muggle and didn't understand. I miss him, because I haven't seen him since, I doubt I ever will. My mother and I moved to a farm in the middle of the country, the closest neighbor was two kilometers away let alone the closest magical neighbor." Gwen seemed to grow excited with her tale, as if she had never been able to get it off her chest. "I saw a side of my mom I'd never seen before because she had kept being a witch a secret from my father. I knew there was something strange about her, from a muggle standpoint, but I could never pin it until then. If you ask me, it was stupid to keep it secret because he left, but I suppose, he would have left much quicker if she had told him sooner. She started using magic again and she became very happy. She bought me a wand, and she had kept all of her old school books and taught me how to use magic day and night."

"You must miss her," Hermione said with a sympathetic expression on her face.

Gwen nodded, "I've never been away from her before but she said she'll be sending me express owls almost every week, so that's not so bad. Wait until I tell her about you guys!"

"No, don't!" Harry exclaimed suddenly.

Gwen, taken back, asked, "Why not?"

"Yeah Harry," Hermione said, with her eyebrows raised, "It's nothing everybody doesn't already know."

In annoyance and through gritted teeth he replied, "I would just prefer not to have an owl intercepted that's all."

Gwen nodded in understanding, "That's OK, Harry, I know what you mean. I'll tell my mom about you, but I'll spare her the whole story." She grinned widely, flashing her white teeth.

"Harry Potter," an excited and familiar voice exclaimed. Harry turned to see little Colin Creevey, not much bigger than he was in Harry's second year, behind him. "Harry, Professor McGonagall gave me this note to give to you, can you believe it? She gave it to me to give to you! She told me it's very important that you receive it, so here it is!"

Without reply, Harry took the note and nodded as Colin scampered off. He opened it up and read it quickly afterwards bidding farewell to his friends and Gwen, whom he wasn't so sure about still, and made his way to the corridor with the Gargoyles.

He knew Hermione and Ron would understand and he hoped that Gwen would not ask too many questions.

**AN: Thanks for your comments, I'm not getting as many as I'd hoped for but I suppose, Harry Potter is more popular in the fan fiction department than Crossing Jordan is… oh well, I hope that all who read it are enjoying it!**


	4. A New Professor

_IV—A New Professor_

"Good afternoon Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall greeted as he entered the room. He felt a pang of hurt entering that office, the last time he had been there was just after Dumbledore's tragic death and it had changed considerably since that time two short months before.

The new Head Master had replaced the whiz-bangs and whatnots with more practical things. However, some stayed the same; the pensieve glowed eerily from the corner, still clouded by Dumbledore's many memories.

Harry felt the sting of tears in his eyes as he looked up to all of the old Head Masters and mistresses and there was Dumbledore, his half-moon spectacles sliding down his nose asleep in his portrait. Harry felt the anger and sadness that he had as Dumbledore had fallen from the tower to the grounds below as if it had just happened again. He wanted him to wake and speak to him but he was afraid he would not be able to handle it.

"I found it hard to come in here too, my boy," Professor McGonagall admitted sadly, "in fact; I still find it difficult calling this office my own." With a deep breath, she recovered herself and wiped away any emotion she may have been feeling, "But now, down to business."

"What business is that, professor?" Harry asked with no feeling in his voice whatsoever.

"Harry, this school would not be open this year if I had not forced the ministry to keep it open despite their fears because at desperate times like these, magical education is most important." Her manner became suddenly (and uncharacteristically) passionate, "I refuse to leave children helpless to an evil so great. I have convinced the ministry of magic to open up to the idea of letting children as young as fourteen, use magic outside of school. Though they would only take as low as fifth years, I did it for you Harry."

"I don't understand, professor, I'm of age now. The restrictions no longer apply to me," he said warily.

"I know Harry."

He did not understand. How could fifteen and sixteen year olds possibly help him by being able to do magic outside of school? Suddenly the idea dawned on him.

The horrible thought must have put an unpleasurable expression on his face because Professor McGonagall continued with a softened expression, "Don't worry, Harry. We do not intend to use the students as an army for the Phoenix. However, the students need to know how to defend themselves in times of an attack, new methods that their parents may not know. Methods that you could, perhaps teach them."

"Me? What do you mean?"

"I mean, we are in desperate need for a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, and you, Harry, are the only person available."

"Oh, but surely I couldn't—"

"I know that you have done things you are not proud of Harry, for example, using an old text with dark magic written in the margins," she interrupted. A look of dismay crossed Harry's face. The Head Master continued, "However, I feel that it is your inexperience that we need the most. You are at the same level as your fellow students; therefore, you can teach and learn at the same time perhaps learning more as a teacher than you would as a student."

Harry could not believe what he was thinking. _Me, DA teacher? She has gone absolutely mad._

Professor McGonagall explained to him that the class was to hold three days a week, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday; one full day of classes for all of the students. The seventh years would take the first class, and have two spares in the afternoon. The second class was for the sixth years after lunch with spares before and after meals and the fifth years would have a late night with class after dinner leaving the rest of the day as a spare for practicing in. Professor McGonagall promised to help him with class structure and any problems he was having with his other courses (which he was still required to take).

He sat back in his chair in the common room.

"Are you OK, mate? You look a little ill," Ron said, tapping his wand on his parchment to erase the ink.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry made a groaning sound set his head on the table. He mumbled something incoherent before coming back up, wet ink mirrored on his forehead.

"What?"

"I said; Professor McGonagall wants to make me the new DA teacher."

After he explained his dilemma, Hermione and Ron stared at him unbelieving, much as he thought they would do. Their mouths were slightly open and they did not blink.

"I'd be lying if I said you wouldn't be good at it. But what is she thinking making a student a professor?" Hermione exclaimed after her initial shock had passed.

Ron paused for a moment, thinking about his response. "I think that she's really smart in making you the new DA teacher, Harry." Harry and Hermione gaped at him before he continued, "I mean, you can only learn so much when you sit in class and write essays, but when you're the teacher, you really have to know your stuff right? And no offence, mate, but you're the one that needs it the most," he added quietly.

They could not argue with his logic, which was a first. Hermione was speechless and perhaps a little angry that she did not think of that herself. Her face was red and she was taken aback that she could not receive such an opportunity as Harry had received.

"Well, at any rate, we start DA next week. Right now, the class is just going to be a spare for study time, well for you anyway," explained Harry. "Professor McGonagall wants me to prepare to be a teacher."

"Professor Potter I suppose we'll have to call you now," Ron laughed, "that does sound odd."

Hermione's expression suddenly became sympathetic, all thought of wanting to be a teacher washed away. Harry looked ill when he spoke of being a teacher. He excused himself and went up to the boy's dormitory.

Sivinter was there, silently (and ironically) reading his Defense against the Dark Arts text. The queasy feeling in Harry's stomach did not subside. _What do I do if some of these students know more about Defense than I do?_

"So, Sivinter," Harry began nervously. He looked up from his book. "Have you ever taken a Defense against the Dark Arts course?"

"Oh, yes, I love Dark Arts Defense. It is my favorite class!" He exclaimed eagerly, "Do you know the teacher?"

Harry swallowed nervously but gave him an answer, "Oh, we're pretty close." Before Sivinter could get into a real conversation with him, he blew out his candle and crawled beneath the covers, hiding his head.

**AN: Please review, it really encourages me to continue!**


	5. Teaching the Professor

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V—Teaching the Professor _

The next morning after breakfast, Professor McGonagall announced that for the time being, DA class was cancelled until the following week. There was a mixture of groans and praise and much gossip and chatter as they exited the Great Hall. Lavender Brown whispered to Hermione, "I think it's because they don't have a teacher yet."

Hermione only shrugged and looked toward Harry who walked away, nervously toward the classroom in which he would have to teach.

"Now Potter," began Professor McGonagall, "when we are in this room, we are colleagues."

"Yes professor," Harry replied.

Professor McGonagall sighed. She was trying to establish the ways to teach before going into what he should teach.

"Just as I will call you Harry instead of Potter, you may call me Minerva while we are colleagues because that is who I am. While you are teaching, you must establish a level of leadership above the students otherwise; they will walk all over you. Student-teacher relationships are based on surnames because respect is of the essence. If I were to come into this room while you were teaching and you addressed me as 'professor', your students would have as much respect for you as they do for the person sitting next to them. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes Minerva," He corrected.

"Good. Now, this year is going to be difficult, Harry, I will not lie to you but I do believe that you will do it. Once you establish respect with the students, teaching is a breeze."

"I have a few concerns, Prof—Minerva," she nodded as his go-ahead, "First of all, will I have to eat at the staff table or leave Gryffindor House?"

"No, Harry, you are still a student."

"But won't the other students think I favor my friends like Ron or Hermione. I mean, Hermione is brilliant, what if the foreign students think she does favours for good marks?"

Minerva pursed her lips, "Harry, I know you would not do that. That would be cheating; however, I was going to go over this with you anyway. Have a seat."

Harry sat down at a desk in the front, Minerva's eyebrows raised when she said, "I don't believe a professor would sit there, Harry, take your proper seat."

He sighed at his stupidity, stood up and ashamedly plopped himself down in the chair behind the desk. Being a teacher was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Minerva clicked her tongue and sighed, "You are definitely a student."

Heat began rising in Harry, he wanted to exclaim, "That's what I am!" but instead bit his tongue and took her abuse in stride, waiting for her next lecture.

She sat in the desk Harry had initially taken. She looked awkward as she said, "You know that students gossip. You have known that fact since the first moment you stepped foot in Hogwarts, you know that it continues today. People will say things such as, you give favours to your friends, you exchange good marks for a days worth of homework in another class. Students will approach you on the subject; I suggest you turn them down because I do not want my decision to make you a professor to be a bad one. You above all people here know how important this class is for their survival. Their 'cheating the system' will get them nowhere if it does not lead them to the grave. That is why you will teach them everything you know and more."

Harry only nodded. He had not really considered exchanging favours for grades himself but talking about it made him think of ways to handle it.

"Now, next Tuesday, don't be nervous. Open the door with confidence, introduce yourself and begin teaching. Do not give them time to chatter about you. Settle them down and begin teaching."

There was a short pause before a loud knock came from the door. Minerva looked to Harry, "Well, this is your classroom, are you going to let them enter?"

"Come in," Harry announced timidly.

Hagrid entered the classroom, "How're you doin' Harry?"

"Good I suppose," he answered, wondering if he should be treating Hagrid differently now that he was a teacher and Hagrid was not.

"Are you here because of an emergency, Rubeus? If you are not, I must politely ask you to leave because we are in the middle of something," Minerva said, slightly exacerbated.

"Oh no, Professor, I'm here just givin' Harry support."

"Well, you can give him your support when we are finished; he is learning how to properly teach a class."

Hagrid nodded proudly, "Just like me eh Harry?"

Harry smiled; he appreciated Hagrid's support. However, now that he had spoken to Minerva, he knew why he never could gain the respect of the students.

Hagrid quietly shut the door behind him and Minerva let out a sigh. "I think I know what you're going to say," began Harry, "don't take any advice from Hagrid." Minerva only smiled.

After that days 'lesson' Harry, and Minerva, came out of the classroom feeling much surer of him. Minerva taught him how to organize his subject and promised him that in the following two days before class, they would discuss the lessons he would prepare to teach.

Harry told Ron and Hermione everything that was happening and they, like Hagrid, were extremely proud of him.

"Does this mean that you'll have to call me 'Mr. Weasley' in class?" Ron asked with an upturned nose.

Harry nodded the affirmative, with a slight grin on his face he added, "And Miss Granger to Hermione."

Ron groaned, "It's not going to be fun without you sitting next to us."

"Oh, it will too, Ron. Harry I think you're going to be an amazing teacher," Hermione praised.

Ron began asking the same questions that Harry had confronted Minerva about. He wanted to know whether he had additional teaching responsibilities like sleeping outside of Gryffindor, supervising the hallways and eating at the staff table in the Great Hall. Harry told him that he was still a student and had responsibilities as one too. He turned down Ron's offer of a weeks worth of potions for a good grade on his first DA paper.

"Oh, come on!" Ron pushed.

Harry ignored him, sighing he said, "I honestly don't know when I'm going to have time for all of this. I have to organize lessons for the three classes that I teach, and attend three other classes for my own benefit. I have no time for homework," he sighed, lowering his voice a little more so that it was but a strained whisper, "on top of all that, what am I going to do about Voldemort? Nothing has been done all summer because I had to stay holed up at the Dursley's, as Dumbledore had wanted. He is still on a maniacal killing rampage, even muggles are afraid now. You should have _seen_ my aunt and uncle; they were going berserk and calling me every five minutes for 'magic'! It was just weird."

"Well, I can't say that change has been for the worse then," Hermione's lips turned gently up and she said, "Just take everything one day at a time, Harry. Besides, we'll help you, right Ron?"

"Why do you always volunteer me for stuff? You act as if we're bloody well married," Ron replied. When Hermione's face turned a deep crimson, he turned to Harry and said, "Of course _I'll_ be there for you mate." He paused for a moment, contemplating his next question with a silly grin, "By the way, are you getting paid for any of this?"

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**AN: How are you liking it so far? I am glad for the comments I have received, it seems like most people find it different and likeable!**


	6. A Familiar Girl in the Back of His Class

_VI—A Familiar Girl in the Back of His Class_

Harry's first day of teaching arrived swiftly. He had awoken and dressed early to sort out his thoughts. He left while the other boys in his dormitory were still asleep so that he would not have to bear walking down to breakfast with them. After an early breakfast, he walked the familiar path to his classroom, _his_ classroom, the thought sent shivers racing down his spine. The room was dark when he got there, but he changed that by lighting some candles with his wand. He went into his office, _his _office; he never thought he would ever have a space like that to call his own. He had been there on many occasions, when he was only a student. Each time the room occupied something different; Lockhart had a gallery of himself on display, Lupin had stored some creatures in tanks, and the fake Mad-Eye Moody had evil detection devices. This time, however, the walls and tables bore no magical devices, no evil detectors or creatures; only a desk with a chair and a few books Harry had placed on the shelf from his own collection.

On the desk was a large, neatly wrapped package. He eyed it warily, suspicious of surprises. The tag read, '_To Harry, from the Phoenix_'. He ripped apart the paper and saw some familiar objects, a book, destroyed by something very sharp, a ring with the Slytherin family crest, a cup with Helga Hufflepuff's sign and a locket he had seen before, at number 12 Grimmauld Place and immediately knew exactly what it was. He took the fake locket out of his robes, which he kept there to remind himself of his failure. He wondered what this meant. There was a note at the bottom of the box, which read, '_We'll take care of it._' Harry sighed and set the box in a desk drawer.

_Well I hope these are supposed to be good luck charms._

He was alone with his thoughts and this was never good. When he thought, he got nervous. He wondered how the students would take to him being a teacher. He wondered whether they would think that this was just another act, another cry for glory. He wondered just how, exactly, was the Phoenix going to take care of the other horcruxes. He looked to the clock ticking above the door. His time had come. He swallowed nervously, stood and entered his classroom, _his _classroom; he was almost giddy now, though queasy with nerves.

His first class was his own year. He knew he would know some of them, and he would recognize other's faces. He knew that they would stare in surprise. Nonetheless, he opened the door and the students began pouring in.

"You're our new DA teacher?" Ernie Macmillan exclaimed. Professor Potter did not reply; he stood by the door, ushering the students in. He never knew students who could be so loud in chatter and wondered for a moment how the teachers put up with it, and then he remembered he used to be on the other side of this barrier.

"Settle down please," exclaimed Professor Potter in a most professional manner. The class hushed at once, more eager to hear what he had to say than to talk about it. He took a piece of white chalk and scratched it along the chalkboard, etching his name, Professor Potter. He began explaining the rules to them at once, "In this classroom, and with any Defense against the Dark Arts conversations you may have with me, _this _is what you are to refer to me as. I am like any other professor, I give homework and detentions," he looked at Ron at this moment because he knew that if there ever was a person with a joke in mind, it was the brother of the Weasley twins. The Harry inside the Professor felt a pang of hurt as he saw that the dark haired girl, Gwen sitting in his rightful spot. His voice wavered slightly but he recovered, "I suggest you take this class very seriously, because, in my opinion, and in your Head Master's opinion, Dark Arts Defense is the most important class you can ever take."

There were no comments, no questions not a jeer or two, only silence prevailed. Professor Potter began at once.

"Now that you're seventh years, you have a heavy burden on your shoulders. Previously, that burden was what you wanted to do once you got out of Hogwarts; I know that I still haven't decided maybe I'll take up teaching," a giggle erupted in the classroom, lightening the mood a little, but Professor Potter continued, "but honestly. What are you going to do now that Voldemort is out of hiding and terrorizing, not only London, or Great Britain, but all of Europe and all of the world?" The giggles stopped abruptly when _his _name was uttered and Professor Potter's voice was filled with a greater passion. "How are you going to properly do your jobs with his death eaters blowing up buildings and hanging muggles in the air? You can't, this is a situation that is impossible to escape. Last year, we saw at Hogwarts the ultimate doing of dark magic. The avada kedavra curse was performed on our own Head Master! I was there, I saw it, and I know first hand that there is no escape."

His students were silent, captured by his words. Most of them were still stunned that Harry, or rather, Professor Potter, was the head of the class. However, even more of them were surprised that Harry Potter was speaking to them of his experiences.

"This year, we will be going deeper into Dark Magic than any defense class has," he saw some eyes open up, especially Neville's remembering their fourth year with Professor Moody/Crouch performing the three unforgivable curses on spiders and on them. "But first, I would like you to open up your texts to page 56. There is a short analysis on Dementors I would like you to read quietly to yourselves before we have a question session and then take out our wands to practice the patronus charm. Bear with me, for some of you, this is review."

There were a few smiles because he knew that for, some of these students, working with Dementors were old news. However, the students needed something challenging that would instill confidence in themselves.

"Can anybody tell me what a Dementor is?" Professor Potter exclaimed to the sixth years, hands shot up in the air, most of them had been part of Dumbledore's Army, like Luna Lovegood, he chose a different student. A blonde haired girl with freckles in the back answered quietly. Her brown eyes bore into him and he felt relaxed, like Ron did when he encountered a Veela, "What is you're name?"

Her eyes widened and she replied, "W-wensley."

Harry eyed her suspiciously and said, "Miss Wensley could you please speak up."

"Dementors guard Azkaban Prison. They suck all of the happiness out of a person," she shuddered and her eyes emitted pity and longing.

"That's right," Professor Potter exclaimed, "it is a most vile creature, however, the text is slightly outdated. The Dementors no longer guard Azkaban Prison; they are now free and have sided with Voldemort. I have personally met these things on more than one occasion and have had to know the patronus charm since I was thirteen, which is not much younger than you are today," he said after dinner to his fifth years.

This class was more difficult than the other two because at the end of the day, the classroom was dark and sleepy. They were mostly silent during question period. He got them to move the desks aside and stand in a line.

"Now, the charm to rid of a Dementor is _expecto patronum_, but just saying the charm will not do. Mr. Wong told us that a Dementor feeds on your happiness. The way to summon a patronus is to think of the happiest thought you have, think of your friends, your family, Christmas dinner when you were four, your last great summer vacation. Say the charm when you feel you're happiest."

The students tried, he let them fail three times before he announced, "Don't worry if you don't get it right away, the reason you have so many spares, is so that you can practice. This is a very difficult charm. I have met older students who are not able to master it. I don't expect you to get it before next week's class but practice diligently and I'll see you all tomorrow!"

The day had gone quickly, and Harry didn't feel that he had learned anymore than he had known before, though he had shown all of his classes his fully developed stag patronus, something he hadn't realized he was so rusty on himself. He found his way to the Gryffindor common room. His entire house was there, cheering him on, he was Harry again and could talk about his experiences openly.

"Look, I can do it!" Gwen exclaimed, her silver creature, a beaver, swimming through the air above everybody's heads.

Harry smiled, "That's good, Gwen." He was preoccupied. He searched for Miss Wensley, the sixth year with the brown eyes. However, she did not seem to be present, or perhaps he was mistaken in her identity and she was in a different house. He knew he should not feel this way about his students, but he was a student as well, so he thought it all evened out.

**AN: Thank you for all your lovely comments, I wouldn't be writing it if I didn't get any lol! I'm actually getting more than I expected though considering the Harry Potter thread is used more than others, stories really sift through quickly! However, I am glad you're enjoying it, keep up the commenting and I'll keep up my best work! ;)**


	7. Mystery Revealed

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VII—Mystery Revealed_

As the weeks progressed, Harry began focusing more on the class he taught than on his other courses. Hermione continually pressed him to excel but his excuse was that if he did not find new material for the class he taught, everybody in Hogwarts would fail a class as opposed to him failing three of his classes. He did not mind too much anyway, "After all, who needs potions," he quipped.

Ron and Hermione began noticing a change in Harry. Halloween came and went, Christmas was fast approaching and he never lost his enthusiasm.

"You know, this reminds me of the time when Umbridge was here, and you had Dumbledore's Army to think about. You're really excited about being a teacher," Hermione said.

"I'd say he's too excited. Harry, can you let up on the homework? You're killing me!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry laughed, "It'll do you good in the end!"

Ron's face turned green, "I hope you don't mean _the_ end!"

Despite his happiness, Harry still had his moments. He frequently found it difficult to do his homework in the common room. There were too many distractions. Students asking for favours, which he promptly turned down, then they would ask him for help on homework. Gryffindor students felt as if they had their own private Defense tutor living in their dorm. All the girls attempting to make conversation with Harry would crowd Ron, Hermione and himself at their table while they tried to study. Gwen was the worst, always laughing at every small thing he said, trying to bring up Dark Arts Defense into every conversation he took part of, just because he was the teacher. What bothered him was that none of these girls knew anything about him other than he was the boy who lived. He found that the only place to escape all of the unwanted attention was his office. He locked himself in there every night after the fifth years left with a small fire crackling in the hearth he studied. Sometimes Ron and Hermione would accompany him, but this night, he was alone.

He was frustrated because now that he had found a place to study and work out the next day's class, he could not concentrate. The image of a particular sixth year girl kept floating into his mind, as seemed to be the case more often than not.

There was a knock on the door. He invited the person in, unlocking the door with his wand.

His breath was taken away the instant he saw her face. He stood and slowly walked around his desk. Regaining his senses, he found that he was angry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Harry, I couldn't stay at home knowing that you and Ron and Hermione are here!"

"You're her. You're that blonde girl in the back of the sixth year class!" He exclaimed heatedly.

Ginny looked upon him cocking her head to the side slightly, warning him not to be angry with her but knowing that he was only angry because he cared. "Do you want to hear an explanation or do you want to keep yelling at me?"

Harry calmed his temper and sighed, "I want to hear an explanation."

She smiled. His heart melted but he stayed in control. "Like I said, I couldn't bear the thought of you and Ron being here without me. I did the stupidest thing I could have possibly thought of doing at a time like this and I ran away. I've contacted my parents and they know I'm OK, but they don't know where I am and I would sort of like it to stay that way. You can't tell Ron—"

"What do you mean I can't tell Ron? If Mr. and Mrs. Weasley contact him all worried sick about you, they are going to ask him to go back to the burrow and he will, you know he will, Ginny. He'll be worried sick about you too."

She inhaled deeply, thinking through her situation. She paced the office.

"Why did you do this?" Harry asked his voice sounded small and desperate. Ginny turned around to him and he knew the question in her eyes. "No," was his answer.

"Why not?" she cried, "you can't ignore this!"

"I can, and I will. I have to." He turned away from her, his irises reflecting the dancing flames of the fire. It hurt him so much to hurt her but he had not the choice. His voice was a pained whisper, "I thought you understood. I thought I could keep you safe."

"I do understand, Harry. I really do. But I care about you too much to let you go so easily. Besides, it's not your responsibility to keep me safe."

They stood in silence for a while. Harry wanted to comfort her, to take her in his arms and kiss away her tears but he had a duty to fulfill. He wanted to tell her that when it was all over he hoped she would be waiting for him, but he kept thinking that it would not end. Instead, he asked in a tortured voice, "Why did you hide yourself from me?" For the pain of knowing she did not want to be known hurt him more than she could ever understand.

She bowed her head ashamedly, "Because I was afraid."

Confused he replied almost scathingly, "You were afraid of me knowing who you are, but you're not afraid of Voldemort using you to get to me? You are afraid of your hair colour but not of torture and death? I don't understand."

She grinned slightly at his comment and weakly replied, "Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I've been silly these past few months haven't I?"

"Yes you have. Now, let's go back to the common room and you can show yourself to Ron. I don't think your parents will do anything about you leaving now that you're here. After all, you're here with me, your professor."

Ginny laughed, "You make it sound so dirty!"

Harry only shook his head laughing and led her out of the classroom. "So, how'd you get your hair like that?"

"Oh, Fred and George have a special dye, you wash your hair with it and it never runs or fades until you say the code on the back of the box and touch your wand too your head making it disappear. I don't think I'll use it again though," she said.

"Why not?" Harry asked. He thought she looked pretty with light hair.

"Because, when it's in your hair it attracts the most gruesome bugs. I'll have to tell them about that, but I suppose they already know and that's part of the joke."

Harry smiled and asked, "Did they know of your intentions?"

"Know? Are you kidding, they suggested it!"

"What about that Wensley bit?" Harry asked, "Did you think of that all by yourself?"

Ginny grinned, "I had to think of something on the spot because I never expected you to ask me."

Ron was none too pleased to find his sister had been sneaking around Hogwarts behind his back. He only shook his head when he found out that she had changed her hair colour to hide herself, "Ashamed to be a Weasley eh? Well I suppose you wouldn't be the first."

His words, and his insinuation about her following in the footsteps of their over ambitious older brother Percy, cut her but she knew he did not mean them. After a bat-bogey hex and a very heartfelt apology from both parties, they were as they had been before and together they sent an owl to the burrow with Ron's signature telling their parents the story.

"You know you're going to get a Howler for this," Ron told her.

Ginny sighed, "I don't care. It's just so great to be back."

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**OK, not so many more comments but the favs and alerts make me happy too lol yeah, this chapter probably wasn't all that much of a surprise considering what a Harry/Ginny shipper I am and I left that little hint last chapter which was a bit obvious. Well I hope you liked it! Review please!**


	8. Avoiding A Date

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VIII—Avoiding a Date _

Instead of visits to Hogsmeade this year, because of the complications involved, dances were scheduled at all of the celebrated holidays. Halloween had been fun and interesting with all of the cultures celebrating differently. Gwen and her fellow Northern Americans dressed up in costume and gave away sweets to people in the corridors, performing tricks and treats, as is their custom. Christmas was a relaxed festival with a wonderful feast for lunch so that the Great Hall could be transformed into a winter land ballroom. In February, a more romantic theme was scheduled. Out of all of the events, Valentine's Day was the most anticipated.

Harry did not need to worry about getting a date for the dance, he could not believe all of the invitations he had received. In the end, he decided to fly solo, as he had to the Halloween and Christmas festivities, a disappointment to all of the girls in his year and otherwise, except for Ginny, who knew his answer before he had turned down the first girl and had not bothered asking him, or hoping he would ask her.

Harry was in his office one evening, avoiding the glares of the girls who he had already turned away and the invitations of those who still thought they had a chance. There was a knock on the door and Harry bid them enter.

Ron entered the office, looking incredibly nervous. "I think the only time I've ever seen you this sick is when you were puking up slugs," Harry told him standing and walking to him. He took him by the shoulders and led him to the empty guest chair in front of the desk.

"Really?" Ron asked, preoccupied with his fingers.

Harry looked up from his work, "What is it? Do you have a problem with DA or is this about something else?"

"Something else, definitely something else…"

"Then spit it out!" Harry exclaimed, realizing how idiotic his pun must have sounded after his slug comment.

"I just asked Hermione to the Valentine's Dance."

Harry was speechless for a moment before his lips cracked into a smile and he exclaimed, "Well it's about time! How long have you been jealous of her going after other people? What did she say?"

"She said yes," he admitted. Harry could not tell whether he was nodding or shaking uncontrollably.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know. This just feels so—official," he blurted. "Like there really is something between us!" There was a glimmer of happiness in his eyes before it was replaced with the ill expression he had entered with.

"Of course there is, Ron. There has been something between the two of you since you were fourteen. You just cannot hide it anymore that's all. She was pretty furious that you hadn't asked her to the Christmas Ball and you went alone with me."

"Well, going alone is better than going with somebody else."

"That's true; she knows that Lavender asked you on Halloween. Remember she was nearly begging!" Harry said. "But it doesn't matter now because you're going with Hermione."

Ron could sense the jealousy in his voice, "W-were you hoping to go with her?"

Harry snorted indignantly, "Ron, Hermione will only ever be my friend. I would like to go with _anybody_ because that would mean that I don't have anything else to worry about."

Ron stood with his mouth open. His face had lost its sick green colour. "I would give anything to have the attention you have! Nearly every girl in Hogwarts is dying to be with you!"

"Yes, but all you need is the attention of one girl, and you have that," Harry said.

"So do you, Harry, or have you forgotten?"

Harry, now in a mood, looked to the fire much as he had when the girl who Ron now insinuated had first entered his office. "Ron, I've told you, and her, the reason."

"But you're breaking her heart. Every day she looks at you with the same look that I—that I see Hermione with. I know you feel the same way, Harry. I didn't give you my blessing so that you could take it for granted," Ron exclaimed.

Harry nearly laughed but held his tongue, "Well it was very grown up of you to give us your _blessing_, but relationships and I just don't mix right now. In case you hadn't notice, I care about Ginny so much that I don't want anything to happen to her, after all, my fate is a little dangerous."

Ron sighed, "It's not just Ginny who looks at you like that." Harry groaned. "I was talking about Gwen too."

"Gwen?" Harry's eyes grew wide and his swallowed hard.

"Yeah mate, she's got it for you hard. When you're not around so that she can look at you, she's talking about you and when her voice hurts too much from talking about you, she's doodling little pictures in her book of you and her and hearts and writing your names in hearts forever, and signing Mrs. Gwen Potter all over pieces of parchment. I'm honestly surprised she hasn't handed in an essay with Gwen Potter on it yet."

This piece of news surprised Harry. He felt a little ill himself, "I had no idea."

"Of course you haven't, you've been too busy teaching and studying. It's all you ever do mate."

Harry realized this. At this time of year, he usually had some conspiracy or other about Malfoy and strange goings on in Hogwarts, but surprisingly, his seventh year at Hogwarts, so far, had been relatively quiet. He was not disappointed at this revelation, quite the opposite; in fact, he had never felt such a release of stress from his shoulders since he was eleven years old. Only to be replaced by a different kind of stress.

"And I'm perfectly happy with that."

"What are you going to do about Gwen?"

"Is there anything I can do? It's not my fault she has a crush on me."

Ron stopped fidgeting with the Dark Detector on Harry's shelf that he had received for Christmas from the Phoenix and looked warily in his direction. "Hermione's worried about you, you know."

"When is Hermione not worried about something?" Harry asked, "Actually let me rephrase that. When is somebody not worried about _me_?"

Ron sighed, "Don't shoot the owl, mate."

"I know I'm sorry, it's just stress, you know."

"I know. Say, I got Fred and George to send me some Fire Whiskey, I could go get it and we could have a drink. Take off the edge maybe?"

Harry chuckled at Ron's kindness. "When did you become such the drinker?"

Ron laughed, "Well, we are of age now."

"Yeah, you've been of age for nearly a year and you've never spoken of sitting around and drinking Fire Whiskey. What _would_ your mother say? And I'm your professor, what would _I_ say?"

The look on Ron's face nearly made Harry peel with laughter. He was not sure whether he should pass off what he offered as a joke or laugh along with Harry. He took a chance and started snickering. Soon, they were both laughing so hard that they did not need any drink to make themselves feel high.

"Hey Harry, is that an owl?" Ron asked.

"What? You don't know what an owl looks like?" Harry turned to the window, stifling his giggles, and sure enough, there was a black owl perched on the window. It was almost invisible against the night sky. It tapped lightly against the frosted glass with its hooked beak. Harry forced open the window, shivering at the cold air blowing in. The owl fluttered in on light wings and perched by the fire, where Hedwig would usually sit if he were not in the owlery, catching mice.

He had never seen an owl so black before. It caused Harry to shiver, sending spooky feelings down his spine. There was a note tied with a string to its leg, which it stuck out for Harry to untie. Harry did so and let the owl rest for a bit as he read it.

_Beloved_ _Harry_

_I am sorry I could not muster the courage earlier, but I would like to ask you to the Valentine's Day Ball. I have been told you have no date, and it would be a shame to go alone. I never seem to be able to catch you by yourself at an appropriate time, and I wanted to ask you privately so I am terribly sorry if this owl seems too impersonal for you._

_Yours always,_

_Gwen Skrinkenshaft_

"Skrinkenshaft?" Ron giggled.

Harry sighed. "How am I supposed to deal with this?"

Ron stopped his laughter when he noticed that Harry was no longer enjoying himself quite as much. "Well, you could pretend that you didn't get the note."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "How do I do that?"

"Well, you could avoid her, not that that would be difficult, you seem to be doing that a lot anyway. I could take the note and tell her that I was in your office when the owl came you were out and I did a most disrespectful thing and read it. I could tell her no such luck for her. It'll break her dear little heart," he laughed, "but I'd do it for my best mate."

"Sounds brilliant. We could do it right now, I'll head back to the tower, you stay here a few moments. Tell her I'd already left when you got here," Ron nodded as Harry packed up his things and set off.

When Harry arrived at the Gryffindor common room, Gwen was sitting on a sofa with her back to him, chatting with Hermione and Ginny. Ginny looked up as Harry passed and she gave him that recognizable look of longing and a short smile. Harry shook his head and bolted up the stairs, which, to Ginny, would have been odd behavior on Harry's part. However, Harry knew that as soon as Ginny saw him, Gwen would see Ginny's expression and look for Harry. He hid just out of sight on the steps leading up to the boy's dormitory.

Ron entered minutes later and went toward the group of girls. He approached Gwen confidently handing her the note saying, "I found this attached to an owl, I believe it belongs to you. Trust me, he won't."

Harry sighed, Ron's act seemed good enough but the next moment, Harry could hear sobs and screams erupting from the common room. Oddly enough to Harry, they were not Gwen's sobs of disappointment.

"You asked him to the Dance?" Ginny erupted furiously. Harry risked a peek around the corner. Ginny was standing, her wand drawn, hovering over Gwen, who was somewhat cowering on the Victorian styled chair her letter to Harry crumpling in her hands. "After what I told you, you still had the nerve—"

"Stop, that is enough!" Harry could not handle it anymore; he was tired of the bickering that went on between all of the women who lusted for him. He no longer wanted to hide behind Ron like an immature child, making it Ron's responsibility to turn all of these girls down for him. "Once and for all; stop your fighting. I am not going to the dance with anybody. At this rate, I don't even think I'll go to the dance!"

Ron stood close to Hermione, away from the other two girls, who did not seem to take any notice except of themselves and Harry.

"Oh, good one Ginny, you've turned him gay," Gwen spat.

Ginny, with righteous fury, flicked her wand, but was too slow because Gwen blocked whatever hex she was sending her way.

Before the battle could get any dirtier and before anymore, embarrassing name-calling came forth, Harry put a stop to their fight. He stood between them both, and announced that they would be attending detention next Saturday evening in his classroom. "That's right, _next _Saturday, Valentine's Day," he added manically.

They both stood shock faced. Even Ron and Hermione were surprised. Before they could retort, Harry stormed out of the common room up to the boy's dormitory.

Shortly, when Ron came up he told Harry that it was a right rotten thing to do, but he honestly thought that both of the girls deserved it.

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I would like to thank personally all of the people who have so far reviewed this story (if I've done so already just ignore me) because not only am I writing for my own health and sanity, I'm writing to keep you entertained! So here goes: Potter-crzy, hglvr42593, PSmith, Anna, ChocolateMoonyGal, animeanigel, and CSI Queen. Thank you for your wonderful comments, keep it up, it gets the chapters out quicker! ;) How did you like this chapter?**


	9. The Detention, the Dance and the Wish

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IX—_The Detention, the Dance and the Lonely Wish_

Valentine's Day had arrived. Gwen and Ginny sulked all day until the time for their detention had come. Harry felt bad for acting on his emotions and banning them from the first part of the dance, the part that most girls think is the most exciting where they enter, all dolled up, giddy with excitement, fawning over themselves and the boys and gossiping over who looks best individually and as a couple. Both of the girls were dateless because Gwen had been counting on Harry to ask her and Ginny would go with nobody but him, they had somewhat received their wish.

They were in his classroom right after dinner, cleaning chalk brushes and boards, wiping desks, and organizing the fallback pillows all without the help of their wands.

Harry supervised from his office simultaneously organizing the next week's classes. He was just perfecting a defense hex, which he would be teaching to the seventh years on Tuesday when Gwen and Ginny came to the door.

"Professor, we're finished."

"Then sit at a desk until I tell you that you can leave."

"No wonder he's good at detentions, he's gotten enough from Snape in his lifetime," Ginny muttered.

"Pardon me, Ginny. I couldn't quite hear you. Was that an extra hour you both want?" He added indignantly.

They groaned and sat down at the desk. Harry kept the door open so that he could hear if they were chatting. He supposed he should give them lines but then he wondered what he would give lines about, 'I shall not fight over Harry Potter,' or 'If Harry Potter wants to go to the Valentine's Day Dance alone, I should let him.'

When he had perfected the charm he told the girls that they could go to the Dance, "However, I suggest you change first."

The girls simultaneously hesitated and then glared at each other as if they both had the same thing in mind, asking Harry, once again, to the dance. When Professor Potter suggested that they sit longer at their desks, they both stood and hurried out of the classroom.

Harry watched them go, then went back into his office and changed for the dance. He was going to meet Ron and Hermione in fifteen minutes.

When he arrived, looking quite handsome in his long tailed dress robes, Ron looked giddy with excitement. He had enjoyed (for the first time) dancing, because it was with Hermione, who looked equally as excited as her date. She privately thanked Harry for keeping Ginny and Gwen as long as he had because without that time, she would have been stuck sitting on the sidelines settling the war between the dateless.

Harry was looking around the Great Hall, decorated with flying cherubs and hearts and suddenly he understood; Ron and Hermione had been shot with an arrow each. He vowed to try to steer away from the tiny angels.

Just then, the girls came down the steps, Ginny's red hair, loosely pinned up with rhinestone bobby pins, she wore a flowing, forest green gown. Gwen had not done much more with her hair than she normally would have, short in the back and long in the front, she swept her bangs aside with more class than usual and tipped each spike in the back with silver sparkles. She wore a red evening gown. Though they were beautiful, he tried to pay them no attention. Which wasn't hard, they swept passed him as if he wasn't even there.

Harry stayed for one song, which was slow. He watched couples grace the dance floor. He saw Ron and Hermione closer than he ever thought two people could be. He saw Ginny on the sidelines seeing him. For one moment, he thought one dance would not hurt, and then, thinking otherwise, he left.

Gwen found him unintentionally. She had left the dance in search of Ron and Hermione on Ginny's request. It seemed the two were getting along again. Harry was having a quiet moment on a terrace two floors above the Great Hall.

"Harry?" she whispered. The moment seemed to call for silence, as if normal speech would startle him as it would a deer.

He turned with his hands still on the stone rail. He looked so incredibly adult. He said nothing before turning back to view the castle grounds. Down below the terrace was the entrance, some students milled around the doors, laughing and talking. Further, following the path was the metal gate, which had closed the moment the carriages carried the students inside the grounds and had not opened for a student since then.

Gwen swallowed, "I'm really sorry for the way I've acted."

Harry accepted her apology adding with a grin that seemed to emit more pain than happiness, "You just didn't understand that's all."

"I could try to understand, if you'd let me."

Harry paused for a moment, thinking through his words. He felt now that he could trust Gwen more than he could in their first week of school, but he needed the trust of a friend, not that of somebody wanting to be a lover. In his opinion, that space was reserved for one person only and he had hurt her more than he had intended to.

"Hermione told you the story of Lord Voldemort, but she left out many details. What she told you is what the average person knows. She did not go into any more detail because it is far too painful. I am in more danger than anybody realizes. People have died, Gwen, too many people very close to me have died just because I cared about them too much."

Gwen was silent for a moment before saying quietly, "I would be willing to die for you if that meant I could first be close to you."

Harry scoffed, "This is no joke!"

"I'm not laughing am I? I love you, Harry Potter. I'm sorry if I sound stupid or if I'm making a total fool of myself, but I can't help it, that's what happens when your in love. When you're around I'm as happy as I am at home and when you're not around, the castle seems cold and dark and foreign. I would like not loving you because that would mean that I no longer have to compare myself to Ginny but I can't help it, I just can't!" Before he knew it, she was crying and he was reminded of not-too-fond memories of his first kiss with Cho.

He did not handle situations like this very well. He felt sorry that she loved him, but felt there was nothing he could do about it. He awkwardly pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back trying, in vain, to settle her. She sniffled and pulled away trying to hide her face, which was almost as bright as her dress. She left quickly without another word.

Harry stayed for a while, thinking over what she had just told him and what Ron had warned him, "She definitely has it hard," he sighed aloud. Looking toward the sky, shining with constellations and random stars splattered onto a deep canvas and though he was not a superstitious person, and if he were he would have known that wish making is reserved for the first star of the night, but he dove deep inside of him and wished with all his might anyway.

**

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I dunno… this chapter makes me sad… lol thanks to all those who commented, your names will be mentioned next chapter! sweet eh? btw, I'm not intending for Gwen to be such a rude, angry character, but i guess it's hard to like a made up character when she interferes with relationships eh? I had planned to wait a couple more days (or at least until tomorrow) to update but I've been getting uber reviews on the last chapter so I decided being over enthusiastic never hurts! lol thanks! **


	10. Classroom Discussion

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X—Classroom Discussion_

Tuesday came rather quickly, as did another and another. Professor Potter, as always, was prepared for his classes. All Weekend he had worked diligently to perfect his newest lesson. He was amazed with all of the new things he had learned since September; things that he had not ever thought he would ever know. He was surprised at his seventh years, the rate they held information was phenomenal; most of them competed with Hermione for the top space in the class. Harry felt proud that his students worked so hard to accomplish good grades and that they diligently attained new jinxes and advice that Harry taught them.

The sixth years were equally as assiduous in their studies but it was with the fifth years that Potter was most impressed. He pushed them harder than the rest because not only were they younger but their knowledge was not as advanced as the sixth and seventh years. He wanted them to be on the same level for their own safety. He was not willing to deny them their defense for the sake of class structure. For them, he created an advanced class of sorts. They always had extensive homework and were on a level almost comparable to the sixth years. Though they often complained, they managed to keep up and Potter beamed with pride.

"Alright class," announced Potter, "for tomorrow, I want you to have a foot long essay on how you would deal with giants. You have twenty minutes left in class so I suggest you start now."

The fifth years groaned, reluctantly removing parchment and quills from their bags. However, one student at the front of the class sat in expectation. This boy was darker than night, with protuberant eyes as clear as glass, his name was Pedro Zimbejuanez from Brazil, but because of his nearly unpronounceable surname, he preferred his teachers called him Pedro. This was not the first time he had sat with his small hands, neatly folded on his desk; Professor Potter knew his little game well. The game, if it had a title, would be called 'try to discredit your Defense against the Dark Arts professor to the point of embarrassment'. Potter pretended not to notice him at first but soon, with his never ceasing gaze, it was hard not to notice him.

"What is your curiosity dwelling on this time, Pedro?" Professor Potter sighed, looking up shortly from his sixth-year's essays. Some of the class began to snicker at his question. Pedro did not seem to notice the laughter.

"Professor," Pedro began, fluently in English with a thick Afro-Brazilian accent, "How would _you_ fight off a giant?"

"Well, the point of writing the essay is to tell me how you would do it yourself. I've never had an encounter with a giant, and if I had, I wouldn't want to give anything away," he lied, remembering his own fifth year when Hagrid had introduced him to his half brother, Grawp.

"So you want pointers if you ever do?" Pedro countered.

Potter lifted an eyebrow, "No, Pedro. I'm sure I could handle a giant to the best of my ability."

"What is your ability, exactly?"

Potter sighed. _Is this about giants or are we on a different topic now?_ He was silent for a moment, peering apathetically into Pedro's glass eyes. _If I tell him to get to work, I would be admitting defeat, if I give him detention I would be admitting defeat and I would have to put up with him for an entire Saturday afternoon. If I answer him, I give into his demands and am defeated._ Potter chose the best course of action.

"Well, Pedro, you tell me, considering you seem to be the know-all of the DA class. I'm just the teacher, maybe I don't know everything."

"You don't, you practice all the time," he countered, "I could list off lots of things that you don't know!"

"Well, you may list them, but do you know them yourself? You should always practice too. It never hurts; you wouldn't want to get rusty."

At this point, the entire class was watching the debate. A young oriental girl in the back piped up, "When you fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, do you use every technique that you know?"

The slight change in subject hit the Professor like a blow to the head. He stumbled over his words before answering, "We use names in this classroom Ms. Yamachi, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, is not a name, it's Voldemort," a shudder erupted in his class like an earthquake; Pedro had a look of pure happiness on his face, like it was Christmas morning and he had gotten all he wanted and more. Potter sighed, "How many times have I told this class that you can not be afraid of a name?"

One of the most brilliant students in his class spoke up, "We're not afraid of the name, we're afraid of what the name represents!"

"Voldemort," Potter said, sending a young girl into a shivering fit. "What if, tomorrow, somebody had a baby and they named that baby Voldemort? Would you be afraid of the baby?"

"Yes."

"He could be just as dangerous!"

"Why? Some muggles are frightened of something they call 'Satan' much in the same way that you are frightened of Voldemort. Satan is one of many names used to describe the horned, mythological ruler of the underworld; if you were a horrible muggle who committed crimes and such, he would be your king after you die and he would make you do horrible things all day long. They believe that he is greater and has more power than Voldemort ever will and yet, they still call their children 'rotten little devils'. They are not even sure he exists. Would you be afraid if your name were Voldemortina or Voldemorty?"—he could hear stifled giggles from the back of the class—"No, you'd think it's just a name. Well, Voldemort uses his name to instill fear into all of you. He does exists and he hurts people and kills people and he makes sure that everybody knows that he did it so that—"

A hand raised in the back of the class, "So that we'll be afraid of him."

"Exactly!" Potter exclaimed, glad that this situation was turning out for the better instead of an embarrassment on his behalf, "but he also wants everybody to know he did it because he's a pretentious ass."

Laughter erupted from his students. "Of course he does horrible things, you have a right to be afraid of _him_, just don't be afraid of what he's called. All right, class, I expect those essays on my desk tomorrow. You are dismissed."

His class left happily, moving the stale classroom air around them, causing the candles to dance upon their wicks. Harry remained at his desk at the front of his class for a moment as he read and graded another essay from the sixth year class.

Suddenly the door creaked open. With a sharp intake of breath, Harry took up his wand and aimed it at the door. However, before he could utter a jinx, a bright light entered from the floor in the shape of a shimmering tabby cat. It trotted happily up to the desk. If he had not known what this was, he would have thought it to be the ghost of a long dead cat, but he could recognize a patronus anywhere, this was Professor McGonagall's patronus.

A message sent from the headmaster's office that was related to the Order of the Phoenix.

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**Thank you everybody who commented these last two chapters: holly, OnMyOwnAllAlone, oopylaoula, xxStarDreamerxx, martuf,Smittened by Marauders,limeincoconut09, CSI Queen and you sweet little anon person there! keep up the comments! (22 can you believe it? 22!) love you guys!**


	11. Love, Defense and Destroy

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XI—Love, Defense and Destroy_

Harry took a deep breath, for a moment he had no words before, through gritted teeth he asked again, "What do you want me to do?"

He had never seen Minerva look so nervous before, "Hold your tongue Potter."

"This is mad, absolutely mad!"

"The Phoenix thinks—"

"Damn the Phoenix! I am not learning _that_ curse!"

The Head Master sighed, adjusting the glasses on her nose she continued, "It's not only the Phoenix, Dumbledore was talking about teaching you—"

"_Don't_ bring him into this; he would never have wanted me to go into Dark Magic. Dumbledore just wouldn't!" He hesitated before standing strong. His voice was calm, "Have you ever felt the curses? I have, all three of them," he began listing, "I was one year old, a little baby, when I got the Avada Kedavra, remember? Then, in my fourth year, Bartemus Crouch Jr. tried to control me with the Imperius Curse while pretending to be Mad Eye. After Sirius died, I tried to perform the Cruatiatus curse on Bellatrix Lestrange but she performed it on me instead giving me a lesson. I think I've had enough of the Unforgivable Curses in my lifetime thank you very much," he prepared to leave the Head Master's office when somebody else spoke.

"My dear boy, how else do you suppose you are to defeat Lord Voldemort?" It was Dumbledore's portrait. His eyes wide awake with a glimmer of life, when only moments before he slept.

Tears shimmered in Harry's eyes, partly from frustration but also because he had hoped for so long that Dumbledore's portrait would speak and it finally had. He could not count the times he had been in this office since being asked to become a professor. Minerva had invited him up to discuss how his class was coming along, what he was teaching them, his progress on the other classes he took. She had even helped him with Transfiguration in that office. Harry had looked to it with admiration and hope whenever he stepped into the Head Master's office. He longed to hear his kind voice speak words of comfort, telling him that everything was going to be all right.

"But, it's the curse that killed my parents. I don't want to stoop so low as to have to use it. I never want to feel that much hatred for something. I don't want to enjoy killing Voldemort, I just want it done."

Dumbledore's kind smile shone down on Harry, "Minerva, I think he's ready. I think he's proven what kind of wizard he will be. He should learn _Amorarmor Annularion_." When Dumbledore spoke those words, the room seemed to glow with light and a good feeling erupted in Harry's heart a warm sensation spread through his body. Harry's wish had come true. On that Valentine's night, three weeks ago on a cold, lonely terrace, Harry had wished that Dumbledore would send him a sign, speak words of encouragement, telling him that he could go on.

He did not speak after that though. He slowly left his portrait, perhaps for the other portrait connected with this one that all of the other previous Head Masters had.

He looked to Professor McGonagall, "What is that, the Amoramor amularion?"

"No Harry, it's the Amor-ar-mor An-nul-arion," she corrected him. However, when Professor McGonagall spoke the words, Harry was not filled with the same feeling of love and hope and magic as when Dumbledore had said it. "It is a very difficult charm with a complex wand movement. The words mean Love, Defense, and Destroy. It is a powerful weapon with a long history. Sit down, Harry." When Harry had seated himself in the plush chair in front of the desk, Professor McGonagall continued, "You may have heard at one point about a Dark Wizard named Grindewald?"

Harry searched his memory and indeed remembered that name in conjunction with Dumbledore. "I read somewhere that Dumbledore defeated him, am I right?"

"You read that on the back of a chocolate frog card, yes. However, chocolate frog cards only tell part-truths. You see, Grindewald was a Dark Sorcerer who came to power shortly after the muggle Hitler came to power. He hid his horrible deeds behind those of the muggle Nazis, but skipping past all of the unimportant and rather gruesome facts, Dumbledore searched for a way to destroy him and he did in 1945 with _Amorarmor Annularion_. You see, Harry, it is a love charm that is older than time and it is the exact opposite of Avada Kedavra. You need feelings of hate and vindictiveness toward your victim when you use Dark Magic, however, when you use powerful White Magic, such as this spell, you need to conjure up feelings of love and happiness and hope."

"Like when you conjure a patronus?"

"Partly, that is a form of White Magic. However I know that you can think of a magic more like the one we speak of."

Harry thought hard then it occurred to him, the entire reason he was alive. He gasped, "My mum died saving me, which put a protection over me. Dumbledore told me that magic is one of the deepest." He began to grow excited. He had been wondering how he would defeat Voldemort, as was his calling, without stooping to his level. His answer had finally come.

Lessons to work the charm would be difficult. Professor McGonagall had mentioned that it was a difficult charm to begin with; in fact, the only Wizard who had managed to achieve excellence in the charm this century was Dumbledore and he had only used it once. Harry felt he could not compare with that great wizard but he would tryat all costs.

He ran to Gryffindor tower, nearly slamming into students in the hallway. The most joyous look plastered upon his face. He uttered the password, the Fat Lady swung open commenting on his lack of manners as he swept passed her, and up to Ron and Hermione, who were closer than usual and very rumpled looking. Harry paid them no heed and started his story right away.

"This is wonderful Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"This is cause for celebration," Ron said grinning widely eyeing Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes before saying to Harry, "When are you going to start learning it?"

"I start tomorrow evening, after I sort out Friday's lesson."

Ron's happy expression faded at once as the wheels in his head began turning. Hermione looked to him, losing her smile as well, "What is it, Ron?"

It seemed he did not know how to word his concerns; he fussed over his thoughts, not intending to bring down the happy mood. Nevertheless, Ron felt that it must be said, "If this is the spell that will destroy _him_ once and for all, why did Dumbledore not finish him off?"

The question stunned Harry for a moment, and Hermione had not answered either.

"The Horcruxes, Ron," Hermione exclaimed, "Dumbledore couldn't kill him, and neither can you, Harry, until we're sure that all of the Horcruxes have been taken care of!"

Ron felt like an idiot, "Oh, I forgot about those…"

Harry laughed, "Well, it is a lot for a small brain to keep track of, but we don't hold it against you!"

Hermione beamed as Ron's expression became incredulous, "Oh, come on darling, if we didn't have you, what is it we would have to laugh about?"

"Well, I think I know what my next class is going to be focusing on," Harry exclaimed. His contagious wide grin spreading to Ron and Hermione.

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**A chapter to keep the actual story going lol I hope you're enjoying it! Review please!**


	12. Equilibrium

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XII—Equilibrium_

"Okay, settle down, class, we have a very important discussion today," Professor Potter exclaimed at the head of the classroom. The seventh years settled immediately anticipating what he was going to teach. Some of the students, like Ron and Hermione, had an idea on the topic of today's class and they were giddy with excitement.

"Today we will be discussing equilibriums in magic. Can anybody tell me what that means? Sivinter," Harry beckoned when he raised his hand. He had given up on using his student's surnames as a respect tactic because his seventh years were also his friends and midway through the year he could not understand why he was segregating himself.

"Equilibriums in magic mean that there is always a counter jinx to balance out a hex."

"Very good, and does anybody know why?" Silence throughout the classroom. Not even Hermione raised her hand but Potter thought that the reason was that she wanted him to say it. "The reason is because with every ailment there is a cure. If you were to confront Madame Pompfrey in the hospital wing, she would tell you that there truly is a cure for every disease you will ever get, even if it has not been found yet. Despite the history of magic, it is still quite new. There are brilliant discoveries everyday by accident and by experiment. However, we'll touch on that subject another day," He paused, partly to let his information sink in and partly for effect. "For every piece of dark magic there is what?"

"Light magic?" Gwen guessed.

"Close, for every bit of dark magic, there is equally powerful _white_ magic. Now, does anybody know what the counter jinx is for the bat-bogey hex?"

Ernie Macmillian blurted out the answer.

"You must have gotten that counter jinx quite often. That's correct!" Harry gave a few more simple examples for them to get used to before dropping the bomb. "Now, what is the equilibrium of the Cruatiatus curse?"

Silence.

"The Imperius curse?"

Silence.

Professor Potter's voice boomed throughout the classroom, "How about the infamous Avada Kedavra?"

Silence.

"Nobody knows?" He acted surprised, as if he had not only recently found out that there were such counter attacks to the unforgivable curses. "Well there must be, if these three curses follow the same rules as all other curses. Simply put, magic is magic. Just like butter beer comes in no other flavours but original, magic _cannot_ change, it is a constant with rules just like anything else. The oldest wizards and witches tell us that magic is older than time and that it is still developing, still evolving, becoming more than it was centuries ago. Just because we don't know the symmetry to the unforgivable curses, they are still out there. Maybe they have not been discovered or perhaps they have not been named yet."

This bit of information opened his students mind to a galaxy of thought and imagination. He could almost see their eyes glazing over to a place where they were awarded for finding the counter curse to Cruatiatus.

Hermione's hand shot up and she said, "So you're saying that every bit of evil magic has good magic that can counter it?"

"Precisely," Potter said. Murmurs babbled through the class like a stream flowing over rocks.

"But wouldn't that always come out in a stale mate?" Somebody else asked.

Professor Potter stopped for a moment and thought, "Why would you think that?"

"Because, when you curse somebody, and they use the counter curse, the curse is blocked, ending in a stale mate."

"Tell me, how many of you have ever been in a wizard's duel?" Professor Potter asked, "I mean a real wizard's duel, where there is no time to think of your next move, you just know it."

Nobody in the class put up their hand.

"Neither have I, but I can tell you that the more powerful wizard or witch is the one who will come out on top. It all has to do with the way your mind works. Some people were made for dueling, others were not, those who fall victim to the error of not knowing his or her dueling partner well enough," there was a note of sadness in his tone when he said it.

With no further questions, the class was silent. Professor Potter walked to his desk and picked up a stack of envelopes sealed with wax. "This is your homework, a class-wide research project. I have put a binding curse on these envelopes. You will not be able to open them any way other than finding the counter curse and applying it to the wax seal. Your homework is to read the text on the paper inside, and research it individually. By next week, you should have done the necessary research on your individual articles for a class presentation. As a side note, there is something different in each envelope so there will be no cheating. Good luck!" As he spoke, he handed each student an envelope. They tested his words by trying to rip and tear (and even burn) the envelopes open as they were received but to no avail.

He bid them farewell and prepared for his next class.

It was nearly eleven o'clock that same evening when he returned to the Gryffindor tower after finishing Professor Slughorn's potions homework in his office. The common room was busy with studying seventh year Gryffindor students. They were pouring over books in groups of twos and threes, each of them clutching their envelopes.

Ron was the first to see Harry enter, "Oh, hey mate."

"Hey you guys," he replied with a proud smile.

Gwen looked up and their eyes met for a moment before she bashfully turned away. Hermione gave him a silent wink as Sivinter explained that they could not wait to see what was inside, "It's like a tootsie pop, my favorite muggle candy." They had an entire week to work through his homework and they were so excited about it that they chose to get started on it as soon as possible. A proud smile continued as he climbed the stairs to the boy's dormitory. However, on the way he saw something else; a dark figure in the corner, mostly shrouded by shadow but he would know that profile anywhere. Unbeknownst to the rest of the group Ginny silently looked on. She sensed Harry watching her and turned to face him, her puffy eyes told him a story of sorrowfulness and longing, which was nothing new except the flame of a fierce passion, but for what, Harry chose not to find out. He turned away from her stare and continued up the flight to the dormitory.

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**Ohhhhhh suspenseful! What's in those envelopes? Why was Ginny hiding in the shadows? Do I even know? review and find out :9 Thank you to all those who have commented on the last two chapters: CSI Queen, limeincoconut09, Smittened By Marauders, ProphecyProtector and oopylaoula! You guys really make all this writing worth while! (almost 30 reviews w00t!)**


	13. Bright Light After the Darkness

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XIII—Bright Light after the Darkness_

The ceiling of the Great Hall was cloudy and raining throughout breakfast the next morning, Harry watched as Ginny, paler than Nearly Headless Nick, picked melancholically at her meal hardly eating a bite. Afterward, she approached Ron, looking sleep deprived and worried. She asked to have a private word with her brother. Ron rolled his eyes, wanting nothing more than to sit next to Hermione and watch her read the Daily Prophet she had just received.

In a quiet, voice laced with stress she said, "Ron, it's very important."

"Don't worry, mate, Hermione's not going anywhere, I'll watch her for you," Harry joked with a smile aimed at Ginny, hoping to cheer her up some. However, he had a feeling that his attempt was lost on her.

Hermione clicked her tongue, irritated that Harry would think of goading him. Ron gave him a jealous glare before getting up and following his sister out of the Great Hall for a more private conversation.

Hermione had finished paying the owl for bringing her paper when suddenly she gasped, "Oh my goodness, Harry read this!" Finishing his glass of pumpkin juice, Harry pushed his glasses further up his face and began reading over her shoulder.

With a short, front page article, there was a picture of a finely dressed businessman, his face obscured with a white cloth, lying on the floor of a well furnished office. The picture was animated; other people around the motionless body seemed to be searching for clues.

''

MINISTRY OF MAGIC, A TOMB!

It was a deadly day yesterday for the Ministry of Magic. After the offices closed for the night, a body was discovered by a member of the cleaning staff in the Minister for Magic's private office. Percival Weasley, the Minister for Magic's personal assistant, is dead this morning of the Avada Kedavra curse, which was performed by an unknown witch or wizard.

The staff that found the body, as well as Rufus Scrimgeour and other top Ministry members has been taken in for questioning by the Aurors who are conducting a full investigation.

We managed to track down the person who found the body to gain insight on the situation, "I don't know, I just went in there to do a little dusting and he was lying there all dead," said the staff member who remains anonymous until his questioning is complete. "Well, I'm not really supposed to say anything, but there's been a rumor going around about how deep He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has infiltrated the Ministry."

We spoke to a responding Auror, "I don't have anything to say except that we assume He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is behind this."

It is uncertain whether Weasley was involved in the recent Ministry infiltration scandal but a full investigation is going to commence. Weasley's immediate family could not be reached for questioning.

''

"This is horrible," Harry whispered.

Tears were in Hermione's eyes and she brought her hand up to her mouth, "This must be what Ginny wanted to talk to Ron about. She must already know."

"I know," he said, bringing her into a hug. "He wasn't a nice person, nothing like the other Weasleys, but he didn't deserve this," he paused, "Get your emotions out of your system because Ron's going to need your support."

She nodded into his chest taking deep gulping breaths. "Yeah," she said, wiping her eyes and looking to Harry. Her eyes followed his to the staff table where, it seemed, that the staff had just finished reading the news as well and were looking to each other for answers.

"After what happened to Mr. Weasley two years ago and Bill last year; why do bad things have to happen to such a wonderful family?" Hermione wondered rhetorically.

Through a clouded mind swirling with detached thoughts, Harry wondered the same thing.

"I'm going to see if Ron needs anything," Hermione said, bidding farewell to Harry and dashing out of the Great Hall.

Harry was not alone for long. Predictably, after all of his friends had gone, Gwen came up to him, sitting herself in the seat next to his. She had confessed herself to him a month ago and after a period of awkwardness, she still had not received the hint. However, Harry had bigger things to think of than how much Gwen wants to be with him.

"What is it, Harry, you don't seem yourself this morning," she said concernedly.

Slightly irritated he said, "Well, like every other morning, I wake up to find somebody else has died at the hands of Voldemort. This morning had one exception; I knew the person." Without a comment from her, he gathered his things and left Gryffindor table for the staff table. Gwen sighed depressively as she watched him say something to the Head Master and make his way out of the Great Hall.

''

Harry had not seen Ron or Ginny all that day, neither had Hermione. In response to the terrible news he had read in the Daily Prophet, he scheduled a meeting with his teacher and colleague, Professor McGonagall. That evening, Harry sat in waiting in the Head Master's office. He had come prepared to discuss business. He admired Dumbledore's sleeping portrait while he awaited Professor McGonagall's arrival.

"Harry, what is it you want to see me about? Is this something about your class?" She asked amicably as Harry had been rather vague on the details of his reason for wanting to meet with her so suddenly.

"No, this is about Percy Weasley," he stated shortly.

McGonagall sighed, "I see."

Harry had fretted all day about Ron and Ginny and how they were dealing with the situation. He and Hermione both felt sick with waiting for details on his death.

"I want to know what happened. I want to know where Ron and Ginny are."

McGonagall sat down in the Head Master's chair, "Harry, have a seat." Despite being dizzy with grief, he remained standing.

After a moment, when it was clear that he had established himself as the controller of the conversation, with is stance firm and his arms crossed over his chest, she continued. "The details of Percival's situation are unclear. The Aurors are looking into it. As for Ron and Ginny, under the Phoenix's watchful eye, they have gone to be with their family. I know that Percival had separated himself from the Weasley family in recent years, however, it is important that—"

"What if Voldemort finds that they're not in school—maybe this is an elaborate scheme to bring them away from Hogwarts—He'll use them against me just like he used Sirius," Harry was now pacing the small office, "They're in danger," he muttered.

McGonagall was holding her breath, her brow furrowed in confusion. She understood his concern but said, "Harry, you're being paranoid. I am certain they are grieving with their family."

"Of course I am; he's done it before! He'll do it again!"

McGonagall sighed, "I am glad you came to see me, Harry, I want to speak with you about learning _Amorarmor Annularion_ it is imperative that you begin your lessons immediately."

"Really?" Harry asked, taken aback. He had not expected to begin his training until after the school year had ended, however, he supposed that thought was selfish and cowardly, _Of course I have to learn the spell as soon as possible, more deaths are happening every day._ He swallowed.

"Who? Who will be training me?"

Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and walked around her desk. She waited for a moment before speaking, "The only teacher that would have been able to teach you this difficult curse, as you know, is deceased as of last June. However, just recently we have come into possession of the very thing that taught him how to maneuver the curse—"

"It's not a curse, it's a blessing," Harry said excitedly.

"Oh, Harry, believe me, it is a curse," McGonagall said sadly. She stopped by a shelf and picked out an enormous book that looked as if it had been bound in the sixteenth century. "This book was written by something of a committee of witches and wizards when magic became something commercialized; when people began using their wands more for cleaning their houses than for anything magical. Written long before the Americas were discovered and even before Hogwarts was founded so that the knowledge of deep magic would not be lost amongst all of the commercialization. It has been hidden for centuries. At first it was lost when its protectors died but somebody unexpectedly stumbled upon it, can you guess who, Harry?"

Harry shook his head clueless.

"It was found by Gryffindor himself and kept safely in Hogwarts."

Harry was dumbfounded, "You mean it's been here all along?"

"Almost. Dumbledore found it a long time ago and used _Amorarmor Annularion_ against Grindewald but then it was lost and he could not find it for some time until recently."

Harry's face brightened in understanding he muttered, "Something from Gryffindor…"

"That's correct. Voldemort used it as a Horcrux and we have recovered it only recently," the book crackled reluctantly as she opened it. It was moldy and worn with hundreds of years of use. Its thick, yet frail, pages stained with water and time. The pages were clearly legible with elaborate text written in black ink. Harry was enraptured with the writing, and the sketched images associating each spell. The entire book was enchanting and Harry felt drawn to it. He wanted to sit and study every minute detail of it, trying out every spell it had to offer. He reached out to the pages but suddenly the crudely leather bound cover snapped shut. Harry shook his head and it cleared, he looked around, wondering where his thoughts had taken him to because he surely had not been in the Head Master's office.

"Harry, this book is powerful. It draws its readers to it and suddenly they thirst for information. Some of the information in here is not good. We need to focus. I will find the spell so that you can copy it out on a piece of parchment that you must guard with your life."

She began flipping through the book, un-phased by the power it held; perhaps she had been warned previously of its potential and was better disciplined than Harry. He took a role of parchment from his bag along with a quill and a bottle of ink. When the spell was found, she turned the book around to Harry and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat and began reading.

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**Thanks to all of you who have been commenting!**


	14. Studying the Ancient Curse

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XIV—Studying the Ancient Curse_

The page to the left bore an elaborate drawing. It was inanimate but Harry felt it move with the beauty and grace of something not possibly of the earth. He could not say what the picture was because every time he glanced at it, it was something different and more glorious than before. He could sit all day and night for years staring at that ever changing image because it filled him with the same warm feeling that he had felt when Dumbledore uttered the enchantment for the first time, like nothing could ever possibly go wrong.

He became aware of others around him. Professor McGonagall looked on solemnly but the portraits strained over Harry to see what he was reading, except Dumbledore, he seemed to sleep peacefully in his frame. Harry felt he had to protect this sacred document and bent over the book more than was necessary.

He looked away from the image, concentrating on the text. At the top of the unnumbered page in detailed print that was more image than text, _Amorarmor Annularion_ was the title.

He looked up to the Head Mistress after examining the text, "I don't know what this is saying. It's in some sort of foreign language."

"Copy down what you see, Harry, we can easily translate it afterward."

He began copying the Old English text:

_Eac onscnawan as Lufu Awiergan…_

He recognized certain words but others might as well have been written in Oriental characters because they were lost on him. Some of the letters he had not ever seen before. However, because of the magical properties of the book, he felt that deep down he knew the translation; that the right words were locked in a glass box and he could see them, he only needed more understanding and it frustrated him beyond comprehension.

He sighed, relieved that he was finished. Professor McGonagall shut the book and returned it to its shelf to collect dust with the other books. She took up his parchment and studied it for a moment. Satisfied that he had not missed any important, illegible, details, she returned the parchment to the desk.

"Harry, have you ever been taught a translation spell?"

He shook his head, "I didn't know one existed."

The Professor nodded her head, "Well, there is, it is used primarily by politicians when exchanging letters between different countries. For example, when the Minister for Magic in Great Britain, writes to the Minister for Magic in Russia, he may write in English and the Russian Minister can translate it into his native tongue and read it instead of having to know English. There are other variations to the spell, other than with text, there is one that you can apply to yourself that allows you to hear what a person speaking a different language is saying and there is another used to translate your words."

Harry sat transfixed, "Why don't we learn this at Hogwarts?"

"If you were a normal seventh year, Harry, you would have. But under the circumstances, you know how much the curriculum has changed." She paused for a moment, "I want you to translate it Harry. It's very simple, just tap on the parchment and say _Awendan_, which, ironically, is Anglo Saxon for 'translate'."

Harry did so and wondered why it, being so simple, was a seventh level spell. Instantly, the text faded as if it had been washed with water and then rewrote itself in gold which faded back into Harry's own black printing. The only difference was that now, he could read it.

_Also known as the curse of Love. Used against those soulless humans with hearts blacker than a starless night._

_Amorarmor Annularion: Ă-môr-är-môr Ən-nŭll-âr-îĕn, Love, Defense, Destroy. Thou shalt directly followest my connotations for thou wilt becomest a lord at mine illustrious spell._

_Fetch thine wand up lightly, focus in a decreasing forty-five degree angle. Playfully jest toward thy heavens precisely ninety degrees. Let fallest, as if thou art flicking droplets of water at thine enemy, to exactly one-hundred-eighty degrees. Whilst thou sayeth my sacred lexis ponderest upon love and wonderful things in life with all thine heart._

_Followest these simple directions and your enemy, with his heart as blacketh as coal, wilt hath perished before your eyes…_

"Why wasn't the book written in Latin, like most other ancient magical writings?"

"Hermione Granger isn't right in all things, Harry. The oldest magical tomes are written in Latin because that is the language that was used, however, this is in English because the time and the place called for it to be written in English; if that makes any sense."

"Not much," he grinned.

"I want you to keep that paper safe, Harry. Nobody else can look at it because it's very important. Do you understand?" He nodded affirmatively but they both knew that this was a promise he was going to have to break.

When Harry had finished reading the parchment for the tenth time that evening, he felt sadness and a loss of hope in his heart. "Professor McGonagall was right, this is a curse."

Hermione sat beside him, studying the parchment. "Harry, it is only a curse because of the outcome of the use. Some of the greatest magicians said that white magic is just dark magic inside out. You come to a point with white magic where death is involved. This is the point, Harry. You believe it is necessary don't you?"

"Of course I do, it's the only way to defeat Voldemort. It's the only way to stop the terror."

Hermione nodded sadly, "Yes, but at least it's not Avada Kedavra."

Staring into the fire, Harry managed a smile, "You're right. And he is soulless, so this should work."

"Precisely, now I'll help you if you like," she said "to get the wand movements."

Harry nodded, adjusting himself on the rug in front of the fire in his office. Hermione sat delicately on the stone hearth surrounded by books and parchment. She smiled down at him, studying the wand in his hand.

He brought it up trying to maintain a perfect forty-five degree angle then flipped it straight up where he held it for a moment before holding tight to it and flicking it down imagining that water sprayed from the end.

Hermione was unimpressed. Her brow furrowed. "Now, I'm not a professional at this spell of course, but by the way the writer explains it, it's as if you have no control over your wand movements, as if it's second nature to move your wand that way. Think light and graceful!"

Harry snorted, raising his eyebrows and letting a tiny grin escape the sides of his mouth. "I can't even dance; fate chose the wrong person for a light and graceful spell."

"OK, then, think of it this way: You're on your broom and you're flying to catch the snitch. How do you feel when you're doing that?"

Harry closed his eyes and he could almost see himself winding between the other Quiddich players; maneuvering, flipping, loop-de-looping. He tried again, but his wrist was still stiff, he still clutched the wand tightly.

Hermione blushed, "I have another idea," during her pause, her eyes held a mischievous glint to them, "think about how you feel when you're with Ginny…"

Harry would have tossed Hermione out of his office if he wasn't sure it might work. He sighed embarrassedly, closing his eyes. Imagining he was kissing her gently, he lifted his wand. His heart beat, on fire, as he felt that familiar reaction when she was around or he could smell her perfume, he flicked his wand up as he imagined pulling her into him passionately. He could almost feel her close to him, her skin, her hair, and her invisible scent was enrapturing and with the grace of a pitcher throwing a spinning curve ball he flicked his wand at a horizontal level, whispering_ Amorarmor Annularion_ as he had practiced the pronunciation.

He opened his eyes, the room seemed to be glowing, but only for a moment, Hermione was beaming. "On a small scale, you did it, Harry, on your first try! You're ready!"

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**AN: thanks for all the wonderful comments! I'm addicted to them! A special thanks to all of you who commented on the previous two chapters: CSI Queen, limeincoconut09, DaReader, Pheonix Feather15, Bob33 and ChocolateMoonyGal! Love you guys! I hope you keep your comments coming and enjoy the future chapters, i'll try to get them up quicker!**


	15. A Devistating Family Secret

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XV—A Devastating Family Secret_

The common room was filling with Gryffindor students a few days later, when Ron and Ginny returned from home looking fatigued, "I told mum, you send your condolences," Ron muttered to Harry and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione sighed, taking him in her arms as he slumped onto her chair, "Thank you. I wish I could have been there with you," she comforted kindly.

"No you don't," Ron said, as Ginny sat down opposite Harry, "It was pretty awful, always having a member of the Phoenix follow you around and what with mum and Ginny bawling and Fleur crying, even though she didn't know what a prat he really was."

"Yeah, and then there was Ron, 'why are we even having a funeral for him, he hated us anyway'!" Ginny retorted moodily.

Ron met her with a fierce glare, "Oh shut up, Ginny. I was just saying out loud what everybody else was thinking!"

"Not mum and dad, they were devastated and you know that but you continued anyway!" Ginny exclaimed, standing up, trying to intimidate Ron. Ron stood as well, dwarfing her. It seemed to the pair of onlookers that this argument had been ongoing the entire time they were gone. Her teary blue eyes bore into his fierce glare, "We all were, devastated, not only by his death but—" she paused, thinking for a moment, as if changing what she was about to say, "what with all of the things that we left unsaid. He was our brother and a Weasley no matter what he did to get ahead in his career. He was made promises that he couldn't refuse. Did you ever stop once to think that maybe he did what he did because he was tired of competing with the rest of us? What with Bill and Charlie already out on their own with wonderful careers, and Fred and George always catching mum's attention whether it was good or bad. You're mum's little baby boy no matter how dumb you are and I'm the only girl so where did that leave him?" She took a step toward him, forcing him to back into the table. Her cries were attracting the attention of others in the common room but she continued, "His good grades were always overshadowed by the rest of us, after all, he was no smarter than Charlie was. They were proud of him and treated him equally but we always got a little bit more love from our parents. He didn't fit in and so he did what he thought was right and he left us. And you just won't drop it will you, Ron? It was horrible what happened but even after his death you have to keep complaining about how much better he was than you!"

Harry could not let this continue. Ginny was crying now and seeing her tears sent awful shivers down his spine, so he suddenly took her into his arms where she sobbed openly into his chest. Ron stood stricken dumb by Ginny's sudden out pouring of emotion. The common room fire reflected in his eyes while he stood in a stance that said he was ready to fight back; his fists clenched his feet apart. However, he simply stood there, mulling over what he had just heard. Hermione tried to take his hand in order to comfort him, although it was obvious she took Ginny's side of the argument. Ron sneered at her pulling his hand away.

"He was a horrible person," Ron stated furiously, "Don't you remember when mum sent him that Christmas sweater he sent it back. It has nothing to do with attention, Ginny. He was ashamed of us and of being a Weasley. I say good riddance." He glared at Harry, who glared back, his jaw loose, unbelieving, before Ron turned abruptly and stormed out of the common room up to the boy's dormitory.

"Come, Ginny, let's go upstairs and talk," Hermione suggested though she was looking insinuatingly at Harry. Wiping her tears, Ginny nodded, Harry closed his eyes for a moment and reopened them after a deep breath. He unfolded his protective arms and released her. He left her with Hermione and she watched as he went to speak with Ron.

"What in the _world_ is your problem?" Harry erupted.

He caught Ron by surprise; he was sitting on his bed fuming with nothing better to do than pick the stitching out of his bed spread.

"_My_ problem? Am I the only one who hated him?" He exclaimed, "I mean sure, everybody would say just how much Percy was detested after he left, but as soon as he dies all of a sudden he's turned into the family angel and now he's watching over us. It's a load of bull if you ask me. He hated us while he was alive, and he hated the Phoenix and everything it stood for. We all thought he was for the blasted Ministry a confused bunch of idiot they are. I don't see how he's changed now that he's _dead_."

Harry sighed and looked at him strangely for a moment as if trying to make sense of what he said. Suddenly he saw Ron in a different light. He was being insensitive toward everybody's feelings about Percy's fate because inside he was tortured just as much, if not more, than everybody else who knew his older brother.

Harry sat down on Ron's bed beside him; he nodded and said solemnly, "Its okay mate, I understand."

"He didn't try to reconcile anything with the family for two years and now he's gone," Ron cried irately. He took a deep gulping breath as if he were having trouble catching it, "It makes me think, you know. We don't have any time left at all. What if something happened to me tomorrow and I didn't tell Hermione that I love her or I didn't tell my dad that I think Muggle stuff is interesting too."

His enlightening speech frightened Harry though he didn't show it. He said nervously, "You like Muggle stuff?"

"That's not the point!"

"I know," Harry said softly as Ron wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands, "it's alright to think that way. It just means you want to live your life to the fullest and why shouldn't you? I mean, who knows right?"

Ron nodded in agreement, his breaths coming shakily now, "You won't tell anybody will you?"

"What are best mates for? I do think that you should apologize to Ginny though, she's just grieving in a different way from you—"

"I'm not grieving—"

"Apologize anyway. And saying something nice to Hermione won't hurt either."

"I didn't do anything to Hermione!"

Harry cocked his head to the side in a 'you're-going-to-regret-it-if-you-don't' sort of way. Ron returned his expression with a nod in understanding. He stood from his bed, wiping his eyes once more to be sure. He asked nonchalantly, "So how have things been around here?"

"Hermione and I worked on _Amorarmor Annularion_."

Harry wasn't sure if Ron felt a jolt of hope arise from the pit of his stomach like he did but his words seemed to lift his friend's spirits.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Professor McGonagall made me copy out a page from a book she found about the spell, it's the only book that has the spell in it. Hermione and I spent all day yesterday practicing it. She says I'm really good at it," he said proudly.

Ron nodded, he really didn't seem to care anymore, as if the spark that made him so enjoyable to be with had dissipated and what was left was a soulless version of Harry's best friend. Harry recognized the symptom; his friend was trying to think of something to fill the void that was left in his heart after his brother left. The resentment that he had sustained no longer had a place to fit and he was confused. He tried to place it on Ginny but realized that he would only result in pushing her away and he needed his sister.

"Ron, they're going to find out who did this to Percy," Harry assured him.

"Right, of course they are," he said quickly staring at his shoes. Tears formed in his eyes again and he looked at Harry, "But what then?"

"What do you mean? They'll be sent off to Azkaban of course."

"What if it was Him?" He said cautiously. Harry was about to retort but Ron continued, "There were some things that the papers were pressured not to publish by the Ministry and that only top members of the Ministry, our family and the Order knows about."

"Like what?"

"It would destroy what little reputation our family has," he paused. "After he died, we found the dark mark on his wrist," he said quietly. Harry could see the bitterness swell in his blue eyes. He was ashamed of his departed brother but more he was confused. He thirsted for answers that he could not attain. "It's _unbelievable_ yet… It makes perfect sense."

Harry had to agree. Percy's sudden departure from all things related to his family couldn't have been easy on him so there was one explanation, "Maybe he left your family to protect you."

"He left our family because he hated everything we stood for!"

"Maybe he didn't have a choice he was pressured to become a death eater and he left because he cared too much about you to give you into Voldemort. He still had some sense left and decided to be a death eater but not drag you into it. Besides, with your entire family in the Order, it would have been difficult for him to be a Death Eater with your family not knowing about it. He had no other option. He cut all ties and he did it to protect you."

Ron didn't seem to have an explanation but Harry's made sense. Voldemort had hoped to infiltrate both the Ministry and a pure-blood family known to despise the dark arts. Percy had always been ambitious in his career; Harry thought that perhaps he had been tempted with a higher position if he could get information. However, instead of staying with his family and receiving information about the Order, he chose to protect them and gain information solely through the Ministry. Harry wondered briefly how many others were in similar situations. He had made a deal with the Devil himself.

"Harry," Ron said, he looked as if he were going to be sick, "how much longer to people have to suffer?"

At Ron's question, Harry suddenly felt responsible for Percy's death, for all of the recent deaths. If he had defeated Voldemort before he never would have been murdered. He swallowed the lump in his throat before admitting, "I don't know, Ron. I can't honestly make any promises."

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**AN: Thanks for reading! Please comment!What did you think of the newest twist?**


	16. Student Participation

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XVI—Student Participation_

Ron and Ginny made Harry and Hermione promise that they would not tell anybody that Percy was a Death Eater. They reiterated the same story that the Order had come up with to protect the family, that nobody knows what has happened and that his death is simply being investigated. Ron and Ginny seemed to be getting along, but Harry could see Ron simmering just below the surface, making a strong attempt at keeping his temper down. He found that Ron was also slightly bitter because his parents had entrusted Ginny with the express owl sent on the evening Harry had given his seventh years their equilibrium homework. Everybody agreed that it was best that nobody brought up Percy, dead, alive or his dealings with the devil.

However, throughout the school it could not be helped. Those students who received the daily post had spread the news to the other students that the latest Voldemort victim was a family member of two students at the school and a close associate of Professor Potter. They tried continuing with their school work as if nothing had happened at all but it was difficult for Ron and Ginny with the whispers as they passed. Harry hardly seemed to notice them at all considering all of the previous years he had to deal with the gossip on himself.

The time had come when the seventh year Defense against the Dark Arts students were to explain the research they had done on their class projects. Hermione had helped Ron with his because he had not been present when, collectively, the seventh years found the spell that unbound their envelopes.

It was two days after Ron and Ginny had returned. Now, Professor Potter stood in front of a class that was eager to share their information but would not calm.

"Attention class," Potter exclaimed. Hermione sat in the second row watching Harry scratch his head in frustration. He felt small and ignored in the midst of all the conversation happening in front of him. Harry looked at Ron gazing hollowly out the window, totally ignoring what was going on in the class. "Who wants to talk about Percy Weasley?"

Immediately Ron's face perked up but not in a good way, there was a white fire in his eyes at the mere mention of his departed brother's name. Harry sent an apologetic look his way but grinding his teeth, Ron glared at the professor indignantly. Around him the class fell silent, Professor Potter continued, "Well, I'm glad I could get your attention with _something_. Now it is time for class presentations, of the equilibrium homework I gave you a week ago; not discussion session of current events. I trust you all have finished it?"

The excitement that they had shown previously about their homework had faded as if it were yesterday's news. Professor Potter continued, "Everything in the world has something to balance it out. The match of fire is water because they cancel each other out. Now, who would like to go first?"

Hermione's hand shot up in an instant but Potter decided to choose a student himself. They were his age but they all seemed quiet and unwilling to volunteer. He chose a small Chinese girl in the rear of the class. Surprised she looked at her friends for consolation, nervously approaching the front of the class. Potter chose her because he knew that she had the easiest topic in the whole class.

He sat in an empty desk in the rear of the class to better view his students. The student, whose name was, Jun, spoke quietly about _Lumos_, the charm for light. She made a demonstration in the room by lighting all of the candles and her wand before using the reverse charm, _Nox_, to eliminate them all at once. When she was finished she hurried to her desk amid sparse applause.

Potter smiled and nodded at her and she blushed. He then called upon Sivinter who told the class of the opposites, _sonorus_ and _quietus_. Professor McGonagall heard his booming voice all the way in the Head Master's office and made a short visit to see what the yelling was all about.

The work continued, _reducio_ and its equal, _engorgio_ were discussed by Nevelle while some other students went on about the opposites of simple hexes and curses performed on inanimate objects. A young Beauxbaton's student named Simone explained _Deletrius_, which erases spell effects. There were demonstrations on _reparo_ and other fixing charms by Millicent Bulstrode, who gleefully destroyed the things on Professor Potter's desk before glumly repairing them. Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot all spoke of simple curing charms for simple hexes. A young Italian boy spoke of _Accio_ and the Banishing Charm.

Gwen had a friend help her with her project. She set a fall-pillow on the floor and stupefied her before reviving her with the _ennervate_ charm. Hermione was unable to choose a capable volunteer for her demonstration because she had purposefully received the Anti-Dissapparition Jinx. Professor Potter knew that she knew a lot on the subject. She shared her wealth of information with the class on how Hogwarts was a no-Apparition zone delving into how the jinx works.

Ron was last; he spoke of _Levicorpus_ and its counter-jinx _Liberacorpus_. Harry had chosen him for this because it was a relatively unknown jinx and an even less known counter and the counter had been performed on him the previous year.

Harry smiled, impressed with his class for putting so much effort into their work. Everybody received higher than a B minus for their presentations. He dismissed the class for lunch.

He waited until they had all left before turning and seeing Ron, standing by a window. It was a dismal day, cloudy with rain pouring down in torrents sweeping against the panes of glass. The light made his face look grey and sick.

They stood silent for a while, listening to the rain slam against the window as if it were trying to break the glass pane. Harry was thinking about something to say to his friend when Ron turned to him. He looked serious but forlorn. As if he had been thinking about something dreadful for a very long time and it had been eating him up inside.

Harry's voice felt like a lump in his throat, "What's wrong? If this is about what I said about Percy, I'm really sorry. I just wanted them all to calm down. I—"

Ron shook his head as a cue for Harry to be silent. It took a while for Ron to say anything and when he finally did; his voice was quiet and tired, "Remember when I asked you how much longer people have to suffer?"

Harry bowed his head and when it was apparent that he was actually waiting for an answer to his seemingly rhetorical question, he replied, "Yes, it was a few days ago, in the dormitory." The sound echoed through the quiet room.

"Why are you waiting?" He asked softly. He sounded as if Harry had done him a personal harm or he was ashamed for some misdeed he had performed.

Harry thought about the question for a moment and then replied, "I'm scared, Ron." He felt hurt at being approached on the subject by his best friend so repeatedly. It felt like an onslaught in itself.

Ron did not reply. Without looking at Harry he slipped passed him. His silence but for the swooshing sound of his billowing robes was like a knife to the heart.

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**AN:** I'm so sorry I haven't uploaded in a long time, right around this part of the story I got writer's block, and still have it to some extent! I figured it better, though to finish this chapter off finally (who knew that it would only take a few lines) I'm sorry it's kind of dull, i really hyped up the project thing and made it into a big dissapointment, i'm sorry, maybe i just didn't know what was going on there... anyway, thanks to everybody who's been supporting me through this, it'll get better in the following chapters! Please stay tuned! 


	17. Smart Cat

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XVII—Smart Cat_

For the following weeks, Harry and Ron acted as if they hardly knew each other and Ron's relationship with Hermione strained more than it ever had in the past. His intense anger had dissipated, replaced by a moping depression. His grades in all of his classes suffered, his relationships with people that he had known for most of his school life were as tense as a cold war. Instead of studying in his spare time, for class exams and eventual preparation for the upcoming academic NEWT's, he stared thoughtfully out onto the cold April grounds.

To Hermione's immense disapproval, he had taken to skipping classes, (mostly Defense Against the Dark Arts) she made a point of voicing her opinion of this matter whenever she felt he was in the mood to hear her. Instead, he wandered as aimlessly as a ghost through the corridors. Often, she found him outside, sitting on a neglected piece of castle wall, in the early spring rain. He would sit there for hours, the gentle water slowly soaking him to the bone.

It was drizzling now, she brought her umbrella and put it over his head, not that it helped any. His hair and robes were already drenched, as if he had taken a swim in the lake. He hardly took any notice of her, just staring off into the distance as if he could see a greatly troubling something in front of them that she could not. His expression usually looked as if he was thinking with all of his might but on occasion he looked at peace.

She would stand there for a while in silence, trying to comfort him with her presence. He would not utter a word and neither would she. After a while she would give up and go back inside leaving the umbrella beside him in case he desired to use it, but he never moved a muscle. It was times like this that made Hermione feel inadequate.

Harry and Ron spoke simply to each other when they awoke in the morning and went to bed at night. Like associates who would recognize faces when their names were spoken but nothing more. Even Neville noticed the change in their friendship. When Ron did show up for class, Harry would treat him with more apathy than any of the other students. In their other classes, he would sit away from the rest of the group and he almost never paid attention.

Harry kept practicing the curse that would put all his fears to rest. While practicing the curse he felt confident and peaceful, like there really was nothing to worry about. He only wished he could pass this feeling onto Ron.

The group of scattered friends was in the common room; Ron had just entered, he was drenched again from sitting outside. He dropped Hermione's umbrella by the fire and took his place next to the window, looking out on the rainy grounds from the tower. Hermione looked up from practicing Human Transfiguration with Harry. She went to Ron and put a blanket around his shoulders and sat across from him for a while. Ginny and Gwen sat by the fire reading text books and writing essays. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon.

Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair and stretching. Ron looked at him for a moment but when they made eye contact, he turned his head back to the rain pelted window. Harry felt pity and sadness for him, but at the same time a feeling that made him shake his head. _This is almost unbearable_ he thought. He piled his books one on top of the other. Ginny was doing the same.

"Hermione, I'm going for a walk, do you and Ron want to join me?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure why he invited Ron, perhaps it was because they were together and he expected them to spend every moment together like they had before. Now it wasn't so much the case.

"I'll go," Hermione answered. She looked to Ron for a reply but he only waved his hand, answering, _Go without me._

Hermione shook her head, gave Ron a peck on the cheek, which he didn't seem to notice, and followed Harry through the portrait hole. Ginny wasn't far behind them. Without taking his eyes off the grounds Ron said gently, "Give it a rest, Ginny, he doesn't want you."

"Mind your business, Ron. I wouldn't be worrying about other people when you have your own pathetic relationship to mind," she replied harshly, stepping through the portrait hole.

He snorted as Crookshanks curled up next to him on the window sill, taking Hermione's place. He pet his fur gently, his eyes focused on nothing but his inner mind.

Hours passed. The rainy Quiddich pitch was replaced by his reflection in the window. They hadn't returned from their walk yet.

Suddenly, movement in the window distracted Ron. He noticed a raven as black as the cloudy night trying to find shelter on the sill of the window. It ruffled its feathers and stared directly at the cat, cocking its head to the side. Crookshanks jumped wildly from the window sill.

"Ron, I'm going down to the Great Hall to grab a bite to eat," Gwen said, "do you want me to bring you something back or would you like to join me?"

"What is with that stupid cat?" he asked irritably. It was the longest sentence he had made all week. He looked back to the window but the bird was gone.

Gwen and Ron watched as Crookshanks jogged to the portrait door and mewled. He was staring Ron in the eyes and when he neglected to move; he turned his head to Gwen, who stood immobilized.

"Do you think he wants out?" Gwen asked, confused. She made a step toward the portrait hole. The cat's whining grew agitated.

Ron wondered, "You know, Crookshanks is a smart cat. He knows things…"

"Knows things?" Gwen exclaimed, "He's a _cat_!"

_Mrowr_!

"Yes, but he's got this crazy cat sense. In our third year, he knew my rat, Scabbers, wasn't really a rat at all, but Wormtail, sorry, Peter Pettigrew, in disguise," Ron explained.

"Yes, I remember Ginny and Hermione telling me that story."

_MROWR_!

Ron approached the portrait hole and let Crookshanks into the corridor. He hesitated, glancing back at Gwen, "Should we follow him?"

Gwen raised her eyebrows. Crookshanks sat in the hallway waiting for their decision.

"I feel like a complete idiot following a cat, but I suppose if he's a _smart_ cat…"

* * *

**AN: ok, I'm just getting out of my writer's block for this story, sorry it's taken so loooong! I feel so bad for putting this story on hiatus! anyway, I think that I'm getting close to the interesting parts ? maybe ? anyway, here's something you might enjoy:** www(.)deviantart(.)com(/)deviation(/)33277723 **it's a picture I drew of Gwen and Harry on the balcony during the V-Day dance. Sorry for the brackets (just delete them)butFF doesn't let you have URLs in the stories... If you have a deviantART account, leave me a message and tell me what you think! (or you can leave a message here too lol) enjoy! **


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